Silk Gloves
by Zurizip
Summary: SxK After the influence of the Orbo is lifted, witches powers are more easily awakened, and someone is helping them along. Sakaki and Karasuma are caught up in the problems, and are forced to make decisions of loyalty to themselves and their lives.
1. Silk Gloves

**Yay fanfiction! **

**This fic inspired in part by learning chemistry from a biology teacher, and too little sleep.**

**Thanks goes to auntie.mom and her l33t beta skillz, as well as to the Harry's crowd in general for being a great bunch.

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She wasn't taking off her gloves, not when she was like this. She'd made that mistake before.

Her craft was acting up again, testing the limits of her mind. It wasn't that she was going to go mad any time soon, heavens no. Sometimes she felt like it'd be easier, though, to just feign madness and get on with dying. But no, her mind and conscious just wouldn't let her do it, would not relinquish that last thread to which her sanity clung, like a spider to a wisp of silk. Well, that wasn't an accurate description, a spider seemed to be in perfect control of its silk, and she hardly felt in control at the moment. She knew that the only thing that kept her from knowing the feelings of the last person that had drunk from this glass were the sheer silk gloves she rarely took off these days.

Smirking, she dragged a covered finger around the rim of her glass, idly wondering the reason for its last user's visit to Harry's. It was a fairly normal looking glass, with a bit of a ripple through the middle, presumably to make the grip more comfortable. She wasn't sure what she was drinking but, in her imagination, the last person had been drinking something fruity; maybe a Cosmopolitan. He, and, in her mind, it was indeed a he, was sharing the drink with someone, probably a significant other. They had quiet conversation, every once in awhile a giggle breaking the soft melody of their speech. She smirked as the wild image of a couple sharing a mixed drink through two straws flashed through her mind, like an American milkshake in the 1950's.

But that was ridiculous. Harry's was nice, but it was hardly a place for a date. Sometimes she thought that the STN-J was the sole supporter of Harry's, so rare was it that she saw others in here. Of course, she kept strange hours here; maybe everyone else came at a different time. Perhaps if she touched the glass, she'd come up with an image of Doujima, or, worse yet, Amon. They'd shared many a silent drink here, late at night when any other manager would have closed up and hauled out. Not Master. He had never thrown them out, any of them. Even now, as the closing hour was fifteen minutes away, he had replaced her drink without her even noticing that she'd finished it. She noted that he was very careful not to brush her hand with hers, and nodded at his effort, very grateful. With everything that had happened recently, his mind probably reeled as much as hers. Granted, he hadn't escaped death by a strange twist of fate, but he had lost three people he cared deeply for in the last few months. She had only lost two.

Maybe one of those two people had been the last to touch the glass. Maybe she could find a glimpse of Amon in here. Probably not, though, the Factory had been at least three months ago. Three months of nightmares, sorrow, and silk gloves. Still, it was all left to her imagination as long as she kept the gloves on. She relished that. It was delicious, to have to imagine things, to not know for sure. There was a time when nothing had been left to her imagination. Those days were long over, but it wasn't hard to remember them. A time when anything and everything would tell her their stories, good or bad. She smirked; if walls could talk. To her, they could. If they had something to say. Nearly every wall did. Walls had ears, and eyes, despite the cliché.

Of course, so did everything else, to her. It was part of the reason her own room was nothing but a mattress and sheets, all new, only laundered by her. She could only shop new; thrift store things or hand-me-downs sometimes had more stories than she wished to hear; more than she could block out when wearing them against her skin. When SOLOMON had been training her, they had realized this quickly. She had been given a used uniform for weapons training class, and had collapsed in her room when she put it on. The previous owner's leg had been broken by an arch rival. No one had known that it was intentional ... not until she had recovered, screaming 'Damn you to hell, Georgie, you psychotic bitch!' Words that they had never heard from her mouth along with a name that she didn't know. Getting the story straight had taken a while, but it was later discovered that 'Georgie' was dead; as was the previous owner of the shirt, each killed by the other in a 'misunderstanding.'

No, it wasn't vanity that kept her well dressed. It was necessity. It wasn't frugality that kept her apartment clutter and trinket free, it was a requirement. Hell, she couldn't even walk barefoot in her apartment at this stage without concentrating; her life had turned in to a bed of broken glass and hot coals.

She wondered vaguely when she had grown the calluses to walk that bed. Maybe, like children watching too much violent television, she had simply become desensitized to it. No. She felt emotions too well to say that. She had just lost faith in humanity then. No, that wasn't it either. She had seen beautiful things too. Things so beautiful that she woke from the short trance with tears in her eyes. She had brushed against a bible in a church once; the memory still brought her hope. So much hope and love had been placed into that slightly tattered, well-read book. People prayed to it, placed their hearts in what that bible represented. It had been used in countless weddings and infinite services. It had been used in funerals but, somehow, those had also translated to hope. Maybe it was the closure of the rite, the knowledge that God had taken the deceased and was now caring for them.

She smiled into her glass. Had she ever believed in God? Even now, she wasn't sure of the answer. Certainly, there was a deity, something that threw the dice when life hit a crossroads that could not be decided by mere mortals. _Lord what fools these mortals be,_ she thought sardonically. Shakespeare had certainly echoed the thoughts of any God that existed in that one line. Either way, something had thrown the dice in her favor that night, and it certainly hadn't been her. She never touched dice; most had inevitably been somewhere unsavory.

She noticed that her drink was empty. How long had she been here, anyway? She glanced at the clock, only eleven-thirty. She'd been here for about two and a half hours; not too long. Of course, the fact that she'd been awakened at four o'clock that morning meant that she'd been awake for … nearly twenty hours. How had she managed that? The alcohol. That was probably it. Michael had said that another early hunt was not likely; they had apparently scared any other witches in that area into hiding for awhile. The Walled City had been surprisingly quiet, only one or two hunts in the last few weeks. That was probably why she had come in the first place, a drink or two while she could. Except that she suspected a drink or two had turned into a drink or four, perhaps even five. Rubbing her temple, she noticed Master gazing at her evenly.

"How many?" she asked, voice sounding tired even to her own ears.

"Five and a half," he said frankly, and picked up another glass to dry. "You may want to stop. I made the last two a little lighter, but it was probably a little much."

She cursed herself mentally. "I can't drive like this," she said quietly. Though surprisingly lucid when drunk, it didn't mean that she could operate a vehicle. Letting her head slip onto her fist, she contemplated how to get home. She could call a taxi, or simply go back to Raven's Flat. Michael still lived there; he could put her up for a night. But she felt a strange reluctance to reveal this side of herself, the side that was allowed to get so drunk that her knees wobbled, that thought deep thoughts while steeped in gin and tonic. No, Michael was still a little young, though his sudden freedom and the Factory had aged him considerably. He still didn't know how to handle a drunk. Especially _her_ as a drunk.

"How am I going to get home?" she muttered to herself, draining her glass as if in defiance of ever getting home.

Master smiled, patting her hand with the towel around his. "It's all right. You looked about done, so I called someone to take you home."

Thinking he had called a taxi, she nodded her thanks and grabbed her coat, digging through the pockets. "I hope I have the money on me for all this _and_ the taxi," she said, mostly to herself.

"What? I come all this way and you've gone and gotten a taxi?" a voice said from somewhere near the entrance of the bar.

She froze for just a moment, surprised beyond measure to hear another voice, especially a familiar one. There was movement behind her and, presently, Sakaki's head slid in to view, hair mussed from the helmet he held in his hand. She stared at him, dumbfounded, for a moment before looking at Master. "This is the 'someone,' I assume?" she asked, a hint of humor in her voice.

"Taxis are rarely happy places late at night," he said, smiling serenely.

Wondering why she hadn't thought of it, she struggled to get her coat on. "All right, but I'm not riding on that death trap of yours," she said, fixing Sakaki with a look that neatly cut off all argument.

Sakaki shook his head; she was a very sober drunk. At least she had the good sense not to drive. But that was Miho; good sense. _Even when she's had six gin and tonics in three hours, _he thought with a smile.

"Come on," he said, pulling a coat sleeve into place. She briefly gave him a look of gratitude, and then frowned slightly.

"I still need to pay," she said, making to reach in to her pocket. She swayed slightly.

Sakaki caught her and sighed. "I'm sure he'll take the pay when you come in tomorrow. Right now, you need sleep, you've been up almost a full day."

Touched that he had kept track somehow, Karasuma gave in and nodded good night to Master. The movement made her head swim. As they walked the small hallway, the thought occurred to her that she had had far too much to drink.

* * *

When she sat in the passenger's side of her car, it occurred to her that no one had ever sat here. After her car had been crushed by a witch, SOLOMON had given her another car. Sakaki had always had his motorcycle, and Doujima had found her own rides since then. It was nice, because the only emotion she picked up from the seat, when the back of her neck brushed against the head rest, was a slight relief. She assumed it was because the car had been sold. She settled into the seat and leaned her head against the window, blowing out her breath and trying to convince her stomach that, no, it did not want to turn out all it had been given in the last three hours. She succeeded, if only just. 

Sakaki stood outside the driver's side for a moment before getting in. Miho hadn't told him yet, but he'd noticed the gloves she wore every day now; her craft was acting up. Thus it was imperative that he check his emotions at the door, so to speak. It was harder than he would have guessed. The woman in the car had been his partner for a year at least, and he had never once seen her any less than regal and in control. It was a side affect of her craft that she was so, he knew that with certainty, but it didn't take away from the fact that, for as long as he'd known her, she had been the embodiment of elegance. To see her so drunk she could barely walk was disconcerting.

A lot had disconcerted him lately, though; one more thing wasn't going to throw him off too much. He considered his plan of action. He really had no idea where Miho lived, though he suspected that the address was somewhere in her purse or pockets. Still, the thought of searching for it either on paper or coaxing it out of her mouth was not a happy one, and he discarded it immediately. Then it was settled, she'd just stay the night at his place. Staring into space, he caught a glance of her through the windshield.

_Hold on, _his mind told him, _this is your partner; your _female_ partner, who can sense emotion from the last who-knows-how-long-nowadays, and you are planning to take her to your bachelor pad. _He sighed and gave a good thought to the passing of his time in his apartment for the last few weeks. The bed was immediately tossed out. He hadn't had a girl over the whole time he'd had the place (Hell, he hadn't even had a girl the whole time) but he was still human, and male. The floor probably wasn't such a good idea, who knew what she could pick up through his feet? He'd had a lot on his mind lately, and though he suspected she had the same thoughts on her mind, she didn't need reinforcement, obviously. The couch? Mostly he watched TV on it; when he actually had time to watch TV. That or played the odd video game, but again, that was rare. Yes, the couch was probably safe, with an extra blanket that had been in his closet since late last year.

Now. To tell her this plan. He fiercely reined in all his thoughts until he was focused on the plan, and then slid in to the driver's seat, mouth already beginning to form the first words of his explanation. The words died before their utterance though, when he turned to find her asleep against her own passenger window. Sighing, he shook his head and focused on the plan, she'd find out sooner or later. Glancing behind him, he put the car in gear and began to back out of the parking space.

* * *

Halfway home, she woke up, eyes sliding open to the sight of moving pavement. She wasn't sure what had woke her, but her fuzzy mind did remember that she was in her car, and Sakaki was driving. _Wait …how is he going to get home? He didn't bring his bike. _The thought crossed her mind sluggishly, her logic declining steadily as the alcohol was processed and she began to experience the hangover. 

"Sakaki, you didn't bring your bike," she said, in an attempt to warn him. It didn't occur to her that he'd already thought it through.

Her partner started. It looked as if he hadn't thought of it, but he was just surprised she was awake. "I know," he replied evenly, "I locked it in back."

"How will you get home?"

He suppressed a groan. Of all things, she had to be a curious drunk. He had planned on telling her anyway, but it was more difficult than he'd originally thought. "You're actually coming to my house, Miss Karasuma. You can crash on my couch."

She was quiet for a moment, the ideas working themselves through the misty barrier of the alcohol before finally reaching comprehension. "Oh. All right." She brought a hand up and rested her head on it, staring out the window, lost in thought.

He wasn't sure what to do, so he babbled. "I didn't know where you lived, and you don't look like you're in much condition to remember, so I figured that taking the car to your house would be easiest. It's a little dirty, but I'm sure -"

She glanced at him, smiling, effectively stopping him in his tracks in confusion. "It's all right, Haruto, thank you."

He blushed faintly, ducking his head so she couldn't see. "Uh … no problem," he muttered, and focused on the road again, frantically beating down any emotion. _This is harder than it should be, _he thought to himself. It was hard not to think about something else, about the implications of their coming in to work together tomorrow. Doujima would have a field day, if she noticed. Michael would most certainly notice, but hopefully not say anything. He was smarter than that, and had enough problems of his own. The new girl wouldn't say anything, just flick her eyes from him, to Miho and back again, and then accept their story. Sakaki might have said she reminded him of Robin in that way, but she had not tried to be a friend, as Robin always had. _Fuck, _his mind said, _that was a rousing failure. Way to make her feel better. _He pulled up to his apartment complex, sighing. Well, he'd managed it for most of the way. Parking was interesting; he just took the spot of a neighbor he knew was away for the night. If the guy came back, it served him right; the guy always had his girlfriend over at night, and the noise kept him up.

Once parked, he went to help Karasuma from her seat, somewhat nervous that she might try to get out on her own and end up scratching the car beside them. Her good sense appeared to have won out again, though, she stayed where she was. Carefully, he opened the door and extended a hand to her, which she took, using it to pull herself up. He was impressed that she had such a good hold on herself, until she wobbled and fell against the car. He heard a sharp breath from her as he closed the door and locked it, and brought his face even with hers.

"You ok?" he asked as her eyes focused on him. She looked slightly green. "We can wait here for a minute before going up."

"I'll be fine," she said, swallowing. She steadied her hands against the dark car and let the cool air pour into her lungs, soothing the roiling of her stomach. She sighed as her vision swam and smirked at the irony. "Pathetic, isn't it? Here I am, most experienced hunter of all of you, and _I'm _the one skunked tonight."

Sakaki shrugged. "It's all right, after the year we've had; I'm surprised you haven't been skunked more often."

She smiled bitterly. "Never had time. Besides, I'm still not legal."

"Somehow, I think you passed the maturity level of a twenty year old a long time ago."

She hummed in agreement. She certainly felt a lot older than nineteen most of the time. It was strange that he'd mention it though. "You're a lot older then eighteen, after the Factory," she said quietly. "I think it's a curse of hunters, to grow up before our time."

"Probably." Sakaki said, leaning against a door. He glanced up at her when she shifted, trying to stand up properly. "You ready to try that walking thing again?"

She smiled. "Yes."

Moving towards her, he caught her arm and they began to make their way into the building.

* * *

Sakaki collapsed into bed that night tired and confused. It was nearing one in the morning, but his mind was still getting over the shock of the call he had gotten at eleven-fifteen. He had been half asleep, the early morning forcing him to bed a lot sooner than usual. At first he'd thought it was Michael, that there was another hunt on. The unfamiliar sound of Master's voice on the other end had made him sit up, and the news that Miho was incapacitated had him up and dressed within moments. 

He was worried for her. He hadn't been lying when he'd told her that he was surprised at her sobriety through all this time, but it wasn't just that. As they'd made their way up the stairs, she'd revealed some surprising facts about herself.

"Can you get up the steps? I don't think the elevator is a good idea, even if it's just a floor up."

"No, you're right about the elevator." She took hold of the railing with her free hand and tried to raise herself up. It worked, but she seemed very drained for her effort.

Sakaki sighed. Moving one hand to her shoulders, he hooked the other under her knees and lifted her, trudging up the stairs and setting her down carefully at the top, breathing a bit harder than usual. Karasuma looked surprised to be at the top of the stairs, and the look of surprise on her face grew when she realized how she had gotten there.

"I could have …"

He smiled. "Pardon me, Miss Karasuma, but no you couldn't."

"I mean, if you hadn't … I might have … accidentally … ," she waved at her temple, and Sakaki shook his head.

"I wore long sleeves and gloves for reasons beside my motorcycle."

She seemed struck that he would think about that, pondering as he opened the door and gently showed her in. "It wouldn't have mattered awhile ago," she said, as he propped her up on a stool in his kitchenette. "The first time Amon and Robin disappeared, it felt like I was losing my powers completely."

Sakaki shook out the blanket he had retrieved from his closet and gazed at her shrewdly. He hadn't heard her talk about her powers so frankly since she'd explained them to him his first day. She continued.

"Since the Factory though, it's like I've awakened again. I see more, and it's hard to control when I see it." She put her face in her hands, leaning against the fake bar the apartment's designer had apparently thought was 'cool'. "It's frightening. I'm scared."

Scared? Karasuma Miho, scared? The thought wasn't foreign, but her admitting it to him seemed to be. Still, he was her partner, the duty fell to him to comfort her, or at least try. After spreading the blanket over the couch, he went and placed his hands on her shoulders. "I can't say much to help you," he said, and paused for a moment, choosing his words. "I'm … not nearly as old as you are, and I don't have your abilities." He sighed. "But for what it's worth, I'm here for you."

She glanced at him when he said this, looking mightily surprised and, after a moment of reflection, smiled. "It means a lot, to know that."

He smiled helplessly back, glad he'd gotten something right. "Good. Now, how about some sleep?"

She looked at the blanket and cringed. "I'll try …"

He helped her up. "It's all right, it hasn't been used since last September, I got a new comforter then."

She smiled as she sat down, still being careful not to brush it with her bare skin. Her legs were protected by her pantyhose, the rest of her by her clothes, but it didn't keep her from being cautious. "That was almost a year ago," she said softly, legs bent at odd angles against the floor from where she sat.

"Yeah."

"Before all this started." She continued, "Before Kate, before Robin, before the Factory…"

Sakaki paused. "Yeah," he said again, this time his shortness from sadness. That had been a simpler time. He used one gloved hand to move her head to look at him. "It'll probably be nice to sleep and remember that, won't it?" he asked quietly, neither of them noticing that this was the closest they had ever come to one another. She nodded, another smile sneaking out from her gloomy demeanor.

"Yes."

He nodded in return and turned from her, heading to his room.

"Haruto?"

He turned, his face curious. "Yeah?"

"Thank you."

He nodded, and went to his room, closing the door as softly as he could.

And that had been that. Now he was stuck worrying that he'd done the wrong thing in taking her here, that she'd somehow find a memory or emotion that disturbed her. Then there was worrying about her new power. _What is up with that? _he asked himself, _first it weakens, and then comes back with reinforcements! _She'd said it felt like a second awakening. Maybe the events at the Factory had triggered a new amount of power to open up, strong emotion awakened witches for the first time, who was to say that almost dying couldn't awaken them anew?

He sighed and listened carefully to make sure she wasn't shifting. He heard nothing and told himself to calm down. He needed sleep. Michael had told them all just to come in before noon that day, but if he stayed up fretting over Karasuma, who could certainly take care of herself, he'd be a mess tomorrow.

And so, turning over one last time, he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

* * *

In the living room, Karasuma had been sitting up for what was nearing seven minutes. She heard Sakaki turn over and still again. She wanted to go to sleep, but that required touching the blanket. And though he'd told her that it hadn't been used for months, she was, nonetheless, apprehensive. Still, her head pounded, and she knew that she would fall asleep sooner or later, and making the contact purposefully would be better. Slowly, she laid down, putting her hand between cheek and couch. She sighed. Maybe she could fall asleep like this, and not have to worry about it. Her relaxation brought her neck down, though, and, ever so slightly, a piece of the blanket came in to contact with her skin. 

It took a moment, but she knew it was coming, and braced herself. Old emotions, very old, she was amazed at her own ability, came to her like a broken record that skipped. Moving, new job, confusion … and then, suddenly, worry. The emotions no longer felt like a skipping record, these were fresh and new. She nearly panicked; Sakaki must have somehow touched it when he got it out! There was nothing she could do, but as the episode went, nothing more came. Just worry … worry for her, and a deep caring and control that she had never known he possessed. Even though she was feeling the emotions of someone she had known for a year, it felt like she was just meeting him again. There had been truth in her words, when she'd said he was a lot older than eighteen now. And not just some truth; the statement had been all truth.

She came up from the contact breathing a little harder than normal. It was done, and she lifted her hand up and pulled the blanket over her, knowing she'd get cold later in the night. She allowed her face to bury itself in the blanket, and, knowing that she could pick up nothing more than Sakaki's warmth and worry for her, she fell asleep.

* * *

**Note: I have no idea as to the continuation of this fic. If I get a rousing call for a follow up, and an idea for said follow up, the follow up shall come. **

**Cheers!**

**-Zuri-**


	2. The Morning After

**Heh. So yeah. Hi! We're back for another Zuri-can't-let-sleeping-one-shots-lie!**

**Thanks goes to the Harry's crowd, and especially auntie.mom for lending the use of her lovely Beta skills! Thanks also to the reviewers, whether ya'll are from Harry's or not!**

**Now, sit back and let the 2x4's shower down!

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She woke up more refreshed than she would have thought possible. It had been a long time since her last hangover, and she'd had less to drink the last time. Thus, it was strange when she turned over and her stomach did not perform a flip flop. What was she lying on, anyhow? Her bed seemed to have turned in to a rather uncomfortable couch …

Realization and memory washed over her as soon as she moved against the blanket that was wrapped around her. The bar, the gin, the car, the stairs ..., _'oh, good lord, Sakaki,' _... she thought to herself, eyes snapping open. A slightly drab living room greeted her; white walls, beige carpet. A sliding door, leading to what she presumed was a porch, grudgingly allowed sunlight to stream in through creamy white curtains. The room was sparsely furnished; apart from the couch she lay on, there was a TV, sitting in a small entertainment center, and a coffee table. That seemed to be it, but she did not wish to rise and see if there was more. Right now, she was too busy trying to formulate an apology to Sakaki for being so much trouble, a thank you to Master for his help, and, most importantly, an excuse for coming to work in the same car as her partner.

'_Wow, Miho, you are fucked,' _she thought, as her mind refused to provide any assistance in thinking. Throwing the blanket to the side, she rocked herself to a sitting position, experiencing only minor dizziness for her trouble. It was strange, she didn't think she'd ever been drunker than last night, and yet the repercussions for it were hardly showing. What time was it? Perhaps she had simply been sleeping for much longer than she had originally thought. Twisting, she located her coat and rummaged for her phone. Ten twenty-seven; she had been asleep for about nine hours. Was that long enough to get over a hangover like the one she'd been nursing? She wasn't sure.

Lost for what to do, she carefully sat back; making sure the comforter was behind her as she did, and examined her surroundings from a distance. There was not much to examine; it was an atypical bachelor pad. There were no empty cups, nor plates, lying around, and it was relatively clean. No posters of half-naked women (though why she thought those would be in the living room she had no idea), no trophies nor trifles. The only sign of any habit or hobby was a small game console of some sort. She smiled to herself; Sakaki had always struck her as the gaming sort, she was glad to know she had been right. It looked dusty though, as if it had not been touched in months.

In a strange way, the lack of furnishings comforted her; it reminded her a bit of her own apartment. Before she could go any further on that line of thinking, a door creaked behind her, and the sound of bare feet made it to her ears. She sat up and turned, to find Sakaki emerging from a steam-filled room in nothing but a towel.

She very nearly fainted. As it was, it took all of her control not to dive behind the couch in embarrassment. Instead, she held his slightly surprised gaze, not allowing her eyes to slip anywhere below his face, though the baser parts of her mind were more curious than she would have liked them to be.

"You're up," he said, calmly. "You were sleeping like the dead when I went in."

She blinked. Somehow, it seemed a lot more … _casual_ ... than she had expected. She didn't mind the lack of drama at all, though, and replied in kind. "I wake up fast. Besides, I've been awake for," she glanced into the kitchen, "about ten minutes."

He shrugged, the movement of the white towel against the dark background trying to draw her eyes. She staunchly refused to let them stray. "I take long showers," he said, "I guess it's not a surprise." With that, the conversation apparently over, he disappeared into his room.

Miho collapsed against the couch again, feeling a bit like a puppet with its strings cut. That had been almost surreally natural. Aside from the trials of keeping her eyes trained on his face, there had been very little drama. Shouldn't she be feeling uncomfortable right about now? Shouldn't they be dancing around each other, barely daring to make eye contact?

Well, they were the exception to a number of rules; her, in particular. What was one more? And so she let her head return to its resting place on the back of the couch and sighed contentedly. As far as she was concerned, the less drama, the better. She didn't need it.

* * *

A moment later, Sakaki emerged from his room, dressed in his normal work clothes and eyeing her on the couch. Her head was leaned back, eyes closed and breathing lightly. She looked a hell of a lot better then she had last night; that was for sure. If he didn't know better, he'd say that her one-night stand with the gin and tonic had done her good. She looked more rested then he'd seen her in a while. He gazed a moment, looking for the right word in his mind. Serene. Yes, that was it. She looked serene.

"You up for breakfast?" he asked, shaking himself from his reverie and walking to the kitchen.

She smiled, eyes still closed. "Thanks, no. I'll just get some ice water." She frowned slightly. "I'm afraid I don't quite have enough trust in my stomach for actual food right now."

Sakaki shrugged, grabbing a glass, filling it to the brim with ice, then water from the tap. He then sat a little apart from her on the couch, holding out the glass. Miho opened her eyes, looking surprised at first, her face soon fading to gratitude. "Thank you," she said, taking the glass with a gloved hand. She sipped for a moment, legs tucked elegantly under her on the couch cushion.

As he sat there, a question bubbled to his lips before he could stop it. "How do you drink from the glass without scrying it?"

The ice clinked as she righted the glass and glanced at him. Her face read only mild curiosity, as if no one had ever asked her that. He didn't see how people could miss it, obviously one's lips had to touch the glass to drink, right? As strange as it sounded, he was fairly sure she could scry through virtually any part of her, including her lips, and it left him curious as to how she managed it. He knew for certain she hadn't scryed it on the sly, she had a very particular body language for that. Tense, almost as if disgusted, even before she saw the vision. No, she was far too relaxed, looking off into space and smiling absently.

"It's why I always have ice in my drink. When I was training, I learned to drink using the ice." She took another sip, and, in profile, he noticed that she did indeed manage to drink without touching the glass, the ice touching her teeth and leading the liquid to her lips. "It made things a lot easier, since water doesn't retain emotion as well as solids."

"Really? That's a little strange."

She shrugged, turning more fully to focus on him. "Not really. From a chemical standpoint, water is an odd ball. Hydrogen bonding, high specific heat, expands when cooled, it's just weird." Sakaki smirked at the sound of her using the word 'weird.' The adolescent nature of it seemed foreign coming from her. She continued talking though, words coming smoothly and naturally, as if she had thought about this quite a bit. "From a religious standpoint, water is usually a purifier, a sanctifier. They use it in baptisms and Wiccan rites. It only makes sense." She grinned. "Sorry. It was one of the things I researched when I was in training; why water seemed to resist scrying."

It was his turn to shrug. "I don't mind. Not like I've got anything better to do." He smiled to indicate he was joking.

She rolled her eyes covertly, but said nothing. After a moment, he rose and went to the kitchen, pulling open a cupboard and grabbing an unidentifiable dish. "If you want to take a shower, the water heater for the building is pretty good, and there are some fresh towels …" he slowed his speech, frowning as he set the dish on the counter. Then he turned. "That was rather stupid of me, wasn't it?"

She shrugged. "Only slightly. You're just trying to be a good host."

"Is it working?"

She smiled. "Better than just about anyone I've met. Then again, not many people have tried."

He appeared relieved, and returned to preparing his breakfast. She rose unsteadily, knees threatening to re-fold and dump her ungracefully back to the couch, but she did, eventually, make it up. He glanced over, a raised eyebrow enough to answer his unspoken question. "I do think that rinsing my face would be good," she said, beginning the wobble to the bathroom.

Sakaki watched in veiled amusement as she hobbled slowly to the bathroom door, at first wondering how she knew where it was. He then remembered how he had found out she was awake, and blushed. Now that she was gone, he could properly think about it. He still couldn't believe he'd just _forgotten_ that she was there. Forty minutes shouldn't have been long enough to just forget. But, he had, and he'd walked out of that bathroom to find his partner, not only awake, but staring at him in his towel.

He'd very nearly fainted. As soon he'd forced his vocal chords to engage though, the situation had taken on a very … natural feel. Well, he had known her for a year; it wasn't as if they were strangers. Still, it was strange to have the professional relationship suddenly morph into something almost friendly. What was odder was how easy it had seemed.

He realized that his hands had stilled above his plate, and forced them to movement again. Thinking about this was, more than likely, not good for his mental constitution.

* * *

The water pouring into the sink was warm and inviting. Truth be told, she would have much rather taken a shower but, while she felt much better, she still wasn't sure. Right now, she was eyeing the soap with something akin to hunger. Lather would make her day so much better; it would almost be worth it. Besides, it was just hand soap; she probably wouldn't get much from it even if she did somehow scry it.

Catiously, she lay her gloves aside and reached out a finger to touch the fairly new bar. It was dry, for the most part, but the condensation from Sakaki's shower had settled on the top, making it slick. She paused for a breath…a heartbeat…nothing came. She grinned. _'Amazing what a little stress-relief and sleep will do for a person,' _she thought as she took the soap in her hands and began to lather.

* * *

She was still in the bathroom when the phone rang. Sakaki glanced around in confusion for a moment before abandoning the kitchen, reaching out and grabbing the phone on the coffee table. Without thinking, he flipped it open and answered.

"Hello?"

There was a pause, and Sakaki suddenly had a very, very bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. Then Michael's disembodied voice came through, incredulous and disbelieving.

"Miss Karasuma?"

He could feel the blood draining from his face as he realized that this wasn't his phone; it was Miho's. _'Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…' _his mind repeated the word like a mantra for a moment before recovering and scrambling for an excuse.

"Er …no, it's Sakaki … Karasuma left her phone at Harry's and I took it." He was just starting to be very proud of his covering skills when Michael sighed.

"All right," he said, and the sound of tapping keys could be heard, "I guess I'll just have to use her ground line."

"No!" The mantra returned, _'fuck, fuck,_ _now what?'_ He gritted his teeth, drawing on reserves of cunning he hadn't even known he possessed. "Er, she called earlier, wondering if I'd seen it, and said that she was going to go grocery shopping."

"Well, she should be back soon," Michael said, refusing to drop the subject. Why did he always have to be so damned logical? "And I really do need to talk to her."

"I guess…" Sakaki replied.

"Hm, she has an answering machine. That'll have to do 'till then."

"Erm, sure…"

"Oh, and while I've got you on the line, Kosaka says he wants to have a meeting after lunch today, so come in around two o'clock, ok?"

"Got it." He said, "See you then."

"See ya." The hacker said nonchalantly, and hung up. Sakaki collapsed onto the couch, groaning. That had been very, very, uncomfortable. He was only glad that he'd been able to come up with a decent cover story.

"That was some job." A voice said from behind him.

"Tell me about it," he said, one hand going over his eyes as if he could pretend it hadn't happened if he couldn't see the phone any more. "I feel like an idiot."

He heard her move in to the kitchen and fill another glass with ice and water. "Don't worry about it. It's probably better this way; he would have gotten worried if I just hadn't answered." She paused, and he could hear a hint of a smile enter her voice. "I think, since Doujima left for Venice, he's gotten a little protective of us."

"Well, we're the only ones he knows well," he said and continued softly; "the only ones left."

She sat down next to him, and he opened his eyes, sitting up to look at her. Something was different, besides the gleeful little smile and no-longer-dead eyes. "You're not wearing your gloves," he observed, very surprised.

She nodded, hardly able to contain a smile. "I guess letting it out last night helped me get my craft back under control. I'm still being careful, but I was able to use the soap, and a towel, too."

"That's good news."

She looked down, face suddenly coloring. "Look, Sakaki, about last night …"

Sakaki smiled and shook his head. She had switched back to his last name, after using his first for most of the night. It was a sure indicator that she was better. "Don't worry about it." He said, voice softening. "Do I look in the least bit disgruntled?"

She peered at him for a moment, and secretly, she could have sworn he looked _happier_ than usual. Slowly, his smile spread to her and she shook her head. "It doesn't mean I don't have to thank you. After all, you came all that way just to get me …"

"Master sounded fairly worried. And you have thanked me."

She cocked her head, cradling the glass in her hands. "I did?"

"Yeah, right before I went to bed." He chuckled at the confused look on her face. "You don't remember?"

She shook her head mutely, looking more embarrassed than he'd ever seen her. He couldn't help it; she just looked so adorable wearing that look, face slightly pink and hair a little damp; he laughed.

This normally would have been the time when she gave him a motherly-type disapproving glare; instead she smiled, and then began to snigger right along with him. "In that case," she said, "I guess I can just forget about it … so to speak." They both broke out into fresh giggles, until Karasuma calmed down enough to ask, "So, what ever _did_ you tell Michael?"

"_Fuck!_" Sakaki cried, all laughter ceasing. Karasuma looked taken aback with the suddenness and ferocity of his reaction to what had seemed like a perfectly harmless question. He shot up, looking somewhat panicked. "Damn it, sorry, it's not you, it's just, I told him you'd left the phone at Harry's and I'd picked it up. Then he said he'd try your ground line and I told him you were grocery shopping, and that you'd be back in a few minutes." He smacked his head. "Wow, I'm a fuck-up … created a perfect cover and almost blew it!"

Karasuma was up and in her shoes before he knew she'd stood. "Well, come on," she said. "You don't have your bike, so we've got to get to my house before he gets too curious."

* * *

He didn't think he'd ever gotten out of the place on shorter notice, which should have tipped him off. Of course, all he needed to do was put shoes on and grab his helmet. Karasuma grabbed her phone, gloves and coat, and was standing outside the door, waiting for him before he knew it. He locked the door and they started down the stairs; they were all the way down before he figured out what he was missing.

"_Damn it!" _He said, patting down his jacket.

Karasuma turned to face him with questioning eyes. "I've got the keys," she said, apparently thinking that was the cause of his distress.

"No," he said, frowning. "I forgot my phone; it's in my room." He rubbed a temple. "Genius."

Karasuma smiled, shaking her head. "Go get the phone; I'll bring the car around." Her grin became decidedly wicked. "It wouldn't look good if you remembered my phone, but forgot _yours."_

Grinning in spite of himself, Sakaki pointed. "Car's in the second row of the lot to your left; I'll be right back."

She nodded her understanding and he sprinted up the stairs.

* * *

She had to be careful, when getting in to her car, but she somehow managed it without scrying it. She wasn't sure she wanted to know exactly what Sakaki had been thinking as he'd driven her to his place, and was nearly positive that he didn't want her to know. Sitting back, she experimentally made contact with the back of the seat, and then laid her bare hands on the steering wheel. She breathed, still nothing. Happy with herself, she turned the keys and grabbed the shift to back out.

Her mood abruptly dropped. She knew she'd overreached the bounds of her control as soon as she touched it. It was almost like an electric shock as her mind raced to connect with the emotions that hovered on the shift; Sakaki may not have been touching it with his bare hands, but he had still touched it with the force of his mind.

'_Asleep, surprise, coming to my apartment, what the hell will the others think? Michael, new girl like Robin…Fuck. That was a rousing failure, way to make her feel better.'_

She let out her breath all at once. Who the hell was this man and what had he done with Sakaki? Though she didn't specifically remember going to bed the night before, she did remember the feelings on the blanket; worry and care, all for her. And here there was even more evidence of it. She had never known that he was so … sensitive to her. He seemed to have been trying to restrain his thoughts, they were scattered and guarded, save for the last sentence. What was that supposed to mean, _'way to make her feel better?' _Had he actually been trying to shut off his emotions, just so she wouldn't have to deal with them later?

Smiling sadly, she pulled on her gloves with remorse. He didn't have to know he'd pretty much failed; that she still needed the barrier of silk between her and the world. In a way, it was giving him a barrier too; of ignorance.

She put the car in gear, and backed out.

* * *

When he got in to the car he frowned, and she knew that he'd noticed.

"Your gloves." He said after a moment of silence.

"Yes." She said, pulling out in to traffic. "I ," she paused; she could tell him it was just precaution, but it felt strangely wrong to do that. He had just gone through a hell of a night because of her, was it fair to lie to him now? "I guess I just introduced too many new things," she said, voice so soft that he had to concentrate to hear her. "One or two were fine, but not scrying the stick was apparently too much." She wanted to duck her head to hide her sorrow at admitting her lack of control; but she was driving. "I guess it was too good to be true."

Sakaki shrugged. "Your power is growing, obviously. It'll probably take a while to get used to."

She glanced over. Yet again, he was showing more perception than she'd known he'd had. And he wasn't asking questions about her lack of control; wasn't trying to twist it to mean that she'd gone insane, wasn't even giving her odd looks. "Thank you." She said finally, "I never thought of it like that."

He shrugged, a non committal grunt her only answer. A semi-comfortable silence reigned for a few moments as Sakaki wrestled with the growing question in his mind. Finally, he voiced it. "What did you see?" he asked quietly, "On the shift, I mean."

She thought about what she had seen on the shift for a moment, and a small smile made its way across her lips. "Not much. Something about Michael, a bit about being asleep," she smirked, "and one very clear explicative."

He looked surprised; as he'd thought that she'd see more. "Oh." He said, and then, apparently trying to mask his surprise, he smiled. "I must be a little more empty-headed than I thought."

'_So he doesn't want me to know that he tried?' _she thought, with a measure of shock. _'Why not?' _The joke wasn't lost on her, though, and she grinned. "Possibly." But she said nothing else, still smiling enigmatically.

* * *

As she stepped inside her apartment, she felt weight that she hadn't known she was carrying slide off of her shoulders. It felt so good to be surrounded by her own things, her own thoughts. So good, in fact, that she almost forgot that Sakaki was standing in the door way.

"Oh, sorry, come in." she said, and showed him to the kitchen, pulling out a chair. "I shouldn't be too long, provided Michael doesn't want anything lengthy." She frowned to herself for a moment. She knew very well how to treat guests; but with her craft like this, it would be imprudent to tell him to sit on the couch and read a magazine while she showered and got her affairs in order.

Sakaki apparently sensed her indecision and crossed his arms. "I'll be fine. You need to call Michael, it's been at least half an hour since he called you."

She started, and then nodded. "Right. Glasses in the first cupboard to the right and you're welcome to anything in the refrigerator," she said, and turned to her room.

Sakaki shook his head at her retreating back, steadying his legs on the stool's cross supports. "I ate breakfast, remember?" he said, to no one in particular. Smiling, he settled himself for a bit of a wait.

* * *

**Well. Quick edit SUCKS. I've been trying to fix this for a long time, and it still hasn't worked. So. Lets go about it a different way. If you're reading this, it means it worked. Huzzah.**

**Notes for those paying reeeeeeeally good attention: there are two obscure references to other fanfics in here; Coffee and doughnuts to anyone who can find them! (double shots if you're not the author of said ficcys!) **

**Just to let you know, if it wasn't obvious, this is no longer a one shot, I'm working on a story arc and everything! Hope that makes ya'll happy!**


	3. Just Hunters

**Whee updates! Whee Fluff! Whee PLOT! **

**Anyway. Read. Now. I shall talk at you later.

* * *

**

As she closed the door to her room, she rested her head on the door frame. She hadn't spent a night asleep outside her own room in ages; and now that she was out of sight of her guest, she could let it show. Breathing evenly, she tried to make her heart let go of all of the confusion she'd experienced in the past day. Not only was her power being strange, but her partner was too. Or perhaps he'd been like this for awhile, and she just hadn't noticed. She rather suspected that he had, and she hadn't. What kept her from seeing it? It wasn't as if she thought he could remain the rookie forever, doomed to be accident prone and somewhat incompetent.

Truth be told, he hadn't messed up anything in at least two months. The small epiphany not an unwelcome one, but only served to highlight how blind she'd been. She could know who had last stepped into a store with just a touch of a finger; but she couldn't see the changes in the partner right under her nose. How pathetic.

Mouth pressed into a small line, she pushed herself away from the frame. Time to work; she still had to call Michael. The light on her answering machine blinked and, knowing it was Michael, she pressed the 'play' button.

"Miss Karasuma?" Michael's voice played into her room. "Sakaki said you'd gone grocery shopping, but I thought I'd call anyhow. The chief wants to have a meeting about our hunts recently. He says to come in around two o'clock." There was the quick sound of tapping keys and his disembodied voice continued, "He says he needs those files that you borrowed a week ago, and to bring them in when you come." There was a pause, as if he were debating something. "Look, when you get this, call me, so I know I don't have to worry about it." he said finally, adding a quick, "See you at two," before hanging up.

Karasuma smiled as she erased the message. She had heard the other ending to that sentence, 'call me, so I know I don't have to worry about _you_.' Sakaki was right; Michael was very protective of those he had left. After losing what structure his life had previously had, it wasn't surprising. She suspected that the loss of Robin, especially, had hurt him deeply; she had probably been his first real crush. '_Hell of a way for that crush to end,' _she thought tiredly, '_no closure, no answers, nothing.'_

Shedding her jacket, she grabbed the ground line phone and dialed the office. Using her cell would be no good; Michael would see the number and wonder how she got it back. The phone rang for only a moment before it was picked up.

"STN-J, Michael."

"Michael," she said, keeping her voice perfectly even, "I got your message, sorry about the trouble."

There was an audible sigh of relief. "No, no, it's all right. It's just not like you, Miss Karasuma, leaving your phone like that."

She bit her lip, worrying one nail as she spoke. "I know. The hunt left me a little tired, and I had taken it out of my pocket in case someone called."

"Well, Sakaki has it now; I was very surprised when he picked up." Karasuma thought she detected a hint of amusement in his voice. "About had a coronary, to be honest."

"Yeah …" she said, trying her best to be convincing as she chuckled. She didn't seem to be as good at acting as her partner, but at least he was buying it. "He must have picked it up after I left Harry's."

"Mhm." The hacker returned, tapping at the keys, "Though he did sound a bit …weird this morning." Karasuma could almost see him shrugging, "I probably just got him at a bad time."

"Probably." She said, and, seeing an escape, she said, "Look, Michael, I'd better go, I've still got to shower."

"Of course. I'll see you at two, and don't forget those files."

"Right. See you then." And she hung up, sighing in great relief. Opening her door, she walked out to the kitchen to find that Sakaki had not moved from his chair; staring off in to space.

"You know," she said, "When you made that comment about being empty-headed, I really didn't think to take it literally."

He jumped, the chair squeaking against the floor in protest of moving. Running a hand through his hair, he chuckled. "Well, I was trying to think. When you say that, I kind of wonder if I should bother."

She shook her head, choosing not to answer, and changed the topic. "I called Michael."

"What'd he want?"

"Some files I borrowed to look over awhile back. Mostly charts of locations and dates of hunts."

He shrugged. "Well, that explains why he wanted to talk to you personally."

Karasuma shrugged, leaning against the wall. "Not really, the message would have worked. He's just protective."

"And probably with good reason." He muttered, "Even if it gets in the way sometimes."

She covered a grin with her hand, though it couldn't hide the amusement in her eyes. "You're the one that answered the phone. You could have just told me it rang."

He gave her a smoldering glare, clearly wishing to forget about that part of the morning. "Yeah, yeah, rub it in." She just sniggered in to her hand, and he crossed his arms. "Well, go on!"

"You're doing a wonderful job on your own, who am I to interfere?" She finally said, smothering giggles.

He dropped the glare, smiling helplessly and even chuckling a bit. After they had calmed, he sighed. "Man, it feels really good to laugh."

She dropped her gaze to the floor, bracing hands behind her on the wall. She hadn't realized that this was probably the most fun she'd really had in half a year, hadn't realized how little she smiled until she started doing it again. "Yeah." She agreed quietly, her lips still curled into a little smirk. _And I'm glad you're doing it with me, _she thought, _because maybe that means we're both healing._

There was a moment of silence; as if acknowledging past happy times, and then she pushed herself to a standing position again. "I'm going to take a shower, I'm sure I can find a book or something, if you want …"

He shrugged, "I'm fine. Low maintenance that way- I entertain myself."

"So do dogs; just don't chew on my furniture." She said, heading down the hallway. His surprised laugh followed her to the bathroom.

* * *

She took her time in the shower; it had been noon when she'd called Michael, and if they wanted her in at two, she had a good while. Sakaki could do fine on his own; he'd made that clear, so she wasn't going to worry about it. Well, she wasn't going to worry about Sakaki entertaining himself, anyway; but the subject of her partner just got curioser and curioser by the moment; Lewis Carroll quotes aside.

She hadn't laughed so much in _ages._ Should it worry her that it had been with Sakaki? Should it matter that she was _glad _it had been Sakaki?

_'Bad subject,'_ her mind told her forcibly, _'probably better not to think about that.'_

But she couldn't help it. She couldn't run away from this; and avoiding the subject was a very … Amon-ish way of going about it. She remembered the last time she had tried to emulate Amon; it had failed miserably. She didn't have the mental or emotional constitution to try to follow in the footsteps of the presumably deceased hunter.

But there was one other thing getting in the way of thinking about it. She had _no idea_ what to think. Before Robin, this would have only meant that he was finally getting used to the idea of hunts; he had finally settled in. Now … _'well,' _her mind asked her, _'what does it mean now?' _She sighed. How was it that interpreting emotions left on a stranger's car was simpler than interpreting her own?

Frowning to herself, she realized that she had been standing motionless under the spray of water. She couldn't let this work her up; there were things to do. After all, he was still her partner and they were still hunters. That was that. For now.

* * *

He was on the verge of wondering if she'd gotten sucked down the drain when a door opened and shut audibly. Moments later, Miho, dressed simply in black slacks and a professional looking white shirt-black jacket combo, stepped in to the kitchen, running fingers through still damp hair. She frowned when droplets fell on to the floor in front of her.

"I'd love to use a hair dryer; but the noise is just awful." She muttered, and then glanced up at Sakaki. "Sorry I took so long."

He shrugged. "Like I said, I entertain myself."

She glanced into the living room and looked back at him, grinning. "No chewed furniture, I see. Good job."

He crossed his arms. "Ha ha, very funny. If I'd known you had such a sense of humor, I would have never left myself open."

"That's the beauty of it, though," she said, leaning against the wall again. "I do have a sense of humor, and you left yourself open."

"Tell me about it," he said morosely. "Just when you think you know a girl, she goes and gets a sense of humor. Sheesh."

'_And just when you think you know a guy; turns out he cares more than he lets on,' _she thought to herself, but instead of voicing her thoughts, she replied, "Hey, I always had that sense of humor."

"You should use it more often." He said, suddenly turning serious.

She sighed. "I would. But at work it's been so hard to forget what we're doing. That we're slaying witches just for being alive. Maybe while we were using Orbo, before Kate, it was easier." She closed her eyes, "Too bad the 'humanity' of the Orbo wasn't humane at all."

Sakaki was silent for a moment. He knew the story of Orbo, but hadn't seen the crazed man who swore by it; who died for it. He had seen the witch in the holding tank; but he hadn't seen Robin's eyes when she heard their voices reaching out for her, begging her to end their own lives. She was right; it was hard to shake off the realities of their work enough to laugh anymore. "You're right," he finally said. "It's hard to forget."

She nodded, and they fell into silence. Not sure she liked the sudden quiet, she looked up to the clock for distraction. It was 12:45, and she felt her stomach growling. "How does Harry's sound for lunch?" She asked suddenly, "My treat, as a thanks for taking me in."

Sakaki crossed his arms. "I told you, you didn't need to thank me. I can buy for myself."

"I'll take that as a 'Harry's sounds great.'" She said wryly. "We can squabble about the bill later, but I still need to pay last night's tab, and I want some lunch."

"I can get my bike, I suppose," Sakaki said, standing up and pushing the chair to its previous position. He sighed. "I guess I could be convinced."

"Not like you've got much of a choice but to be convinced," Karasuma said, showing him out the door and locking it. She smiled at him. "I'm your ride."

"Point." Sakaki replied. "A very good point."

* * *

Karasuma sipped her tea a bit later, staring out into a sunny afternoon. "You know that, as soon as we go back, we'll just be hunters again, right?"

Sakaki looked up from his miso, surprised that she'd said anything. They had been fairly quiet since coming in to Harry's. Miho had paid off her tab, and then ordered lunch for the two of them (despite his protests). "Sure," he said, "If that's what you want. I thought it was a given."

She smiled, eyes still focused outside. "No, it isn't what I want. Being 'just a hunter' makes me think of …" she sighed, "it makes me think of Zaizen. As if I'm killing just because I'm ordered to."

Sakaki frowned. "But you didn't."

"Didn't what?"

"Kill just because he ordered you to."

"But what about what we do now?" she asked, setting her cup down and running a gloved finger over the handle. "Isn't it almost the same thing? Michael finds the witches, Kosaka tells us to hunt; we hunt."

"Miho, you know that's not how it goes, now."

She sighed. "Yes. No hunts unless harm has been done. And even though all the witches we hunt now have killed someone and are criminals anyway, it ... ," she frowned and took hold of the cup again, "it just doesn't feel right. What if SOLOMON catches on and replaces Kosaka? You know as well as I do that they wouldn't take to this form of hunting."

Sakaki shook his head. "I don't know. We're still pretty busy, though, so, unless SOLOMON checks our records, they probably won't even catch on to our new hunting format." She still looked downcast, and he smiled. "But hey, we've still got twenty minutes before we've got to be hunters again." '_Before we go back to being the Rock and the Rookie,' _he thought. "So let's talk about something else."

She glanced up at him, surprise registering on her face. A slow smile spread across her lips and she finally grinned. "Well, there's always the weather," she said slowly.

"How about those Americans?" he replied, feeling as if they were playing a game.

"I heard the newest Jet Li movie is good."

"Really? I heard it was horrible."

There was a pause, and they both smiled at each other. For just a moment, neither of them were hunters. They were two people of the same age and intelligence, playing a game for the other's benefit. And, just for a moment, Karasuma Miho forgot all about Zaizen, the Factory, and silk gloves.

And then she blinked. Her heart beat once, twice, and continued on its normal rhythm. She drew a breath, and whatever spell that had silenced the background music and ceased all movement within her was broken. Rather than being frightened that the moment had began, or sad that it had ended, she closed her eyes and locked that instant of peace within her. She still had a few minutes before she had to be a hunter again; she was going to savor them.

No more words were said as Karasuma finished her tea, and Sakaki sipped the last of his soup. They made no more bids for conversation, and at 1:45, she rose, silently, to pay for lunch. He heard the _clink _of change and the quiet ring of the register as Master tapped the orders in and took Miho's money. Then the click of the register closing and her quiet steps. He knew she was looking at him, and turned his head to meet her gaze. She watched him for a moment, eyes so intense he wondered if she could scry him if she looked hard enough.

"Thank you, Haruto," she said finally.

He couldn't argue that she'd already thanked him for his help, because he knew that that was not what she was thanking him for. He nodded seriously, and she turned, disappearing down the little hall way to the outside world, back to being a hunter. A part of him wondered if he'd ever see the other part of her again; or if it would be locked away, never to return until after another disaster. He carefully placed his chopsticks on the table and smiled to himself. It didn't matter if he never saw it again; he knew it was there, and it wasn't something he was going to forget.

"Thank you, Miho," he said quietly. The whisper was lost in a bubble of water, as a breeze ruffled a few leaves in the sun-drenched street.

* * *

**Awwww, ain't that just the sweetness? Erm…yeah. So, there is now a tentative plot and with another Biology class, (and tomorrow with only one class…) it should be beginning next chapter. Yay.**

**As Always, Auntie.mom gets lots of doughnuts and coffee (with a little something on the side since she's had a busy day ;-) for being a beta (nice, wonderful, sweet, _patient-with-the-new-kid_ beta!) and everyone at Harry's, who make me laugh and give me eye candy. (as well as smut. But we won't get into that.)**

**Cheers!**


	4. Stay With Me

**So yeah. Next chapter. Yay for an actual, genuine plot. I'll talk at you at the end, have fun!

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**

The lights flipped on, as machinery whirred and clicked to life. Eyes were turned to suddenly illuminated monitors, on each there was a map with red and blue dots spread sporadically around.

"The blue dots are our hunts in the last two months." Kosaka said, standing at the head of the room. "The red dots are the reason we're here. Michael?"

Michael nodded, and began to speak, his typing rhythm never ceasing. "The police have been getting strange calls recently, mostly for disruption of the peace, in upper class neighborhoods to the north." He paused, and a picture of an alley way came up. It had obviously once been almost picturesque, but now there were dents in the pavement at least a foot deep, and rubble strewn everywhere. The fences on either side, though, had not been touched. "Every time they've gotten a call like one of these, something like this alley way has shown up; but no one's ever been in them, or seen by them."

"Why weren't we called in before?" Michael looked up. Kenshio Kasu, the lone replacement that SOLOMON had sent, was frowning at the screen. "I just mean that, with secluded-looking places like this, you'd think that the police would call us, right?"

Michael shrugged. "No one's been hurt in these episodes and there's been very little property damage. The people who make the calls say that there's a lot of yelling, then unidentifiable noise that varies from case to case, then silence." Kenshio frowned, and Michael continued. "Some people have gone missing from these neighborhoods, but it isn't enough to account for the number of incidents; well over eighty, starting two months ago." A note of annoyance entered the hacker's voice, as if vexed that he couldn't figure it out. "Even when we factor in the number of hunts we've conducted in that time, it still doesn't account for half of these occurrences."

"So you think that these weird occurrences are witches awakening?" Sakaki asked, studying the screen in front of him. Michael nodded.

"All the factors are there, for most of them. For a few, there was just screaming, but that could have been a craft like Miss Karasuma's, which doesn't manifest physically." He pulled up another screen. "One woman went out to see what the matter was, and said that something strange was going on."

"Did she see anyone?" Kenshio asked quietly, staring at the screen.

"Three people, one unidentifiable, one a man of average shape and build," Michael said. "The last was her next door neighbor, who later told her that he had fallen and twisted an ankle very badly." He sighed, "The case was dropped in favor of other, stranger ones."

"So, again," Karasuma queried, "why haven't we been called in before? Did they just look over the trashed streets?"

"Well, it was the latest, really, that sent them to us," Michael said, and brought up a screen. Karasuma raised her eyebrows; it looked as if someone had taken a vat of molten silver and splattered it everywhere, covering fences and burning vines. "The people who own the houses on either side of the alley say that their trash cans are gone; and though they were simple aluminum, it would still take a great amount of heat to achieve something like this."

Sakaki whistled. "So, where do we come in?" he asked. "I mean, if they're awakening, and we're hunting, what's there to do?"

"The problem, Haruto, is that awakenings have never occurred at this rate and, when they have, it has been centered in the walled city," Kosaka said. "While there are basically an even amount of genes distributed through all classes of Japan, seeds in the classier neighborhoods rarely encounter the stress to awaken their diluted blood, especially after puberty." He shook his head. "I've been checking into police records and the people that are missing are all in their twenties."

They all nodded their understanding. Seeds could be awakened at any time, technically, but generally, if they were less than half-witch, it took situations of stress to do so. "Does this mean that there is a witch awakening other witches?" Kenshio asked, sounding as if she was musing to herself.

"That's what it looks like," Michael said. "And we don't know why, and we don't know how."

"Miho and Haruto," Kosaka began, voice stern. "You will go to the latest scene and inspect." Karasuma immediately translated this to its true meaning – '_scry and tell us what the hell is happening here_' - and sighed. At least she was _meant _to do it. She could prepare. Besides, she still felt better than she had in weeks. "Kenshio, you'll go to the walled city and root around for information; the people down there still haven't got you pegged as a hunter yet."

Kenshio nodded and stood. She was very plain looking, and had a look of steel about her that made Sakaki wonder if she was another spy from SOLOMON. She certainly didn't seem as if she was a hunter, though she carried out the duties perfectly well. Personally, he thought she was there to keep an eye on them after the factory. They had all betrayed their superior, Zaizen; it was probably a worry that they might become even more rebellious. '_Well', _he thought, _'we have changed our hunting agenda slightly; no hunt without harm. I wonder if she's noticed that.' _He frowned, _'If she's a spy, probably. Let's hope they don't mind as long as we keep ourselves busy.'_

He suddenly realized that the room was empty, save for Michael. Still frowning, he rose and exited, glancing one last time to make sure he had the address right.

"Good luck." Michael said as he walked past. Sakaki grunted in reply, taking his helmet from his desk and heading towards the elevator. Miho and Kasu had already left, he noted, as he donned his helmet and started his bike.

* * *

He parked his bike beside Karasuma's car and left the helmet. The neighborhood that they were in had 'young money' written all over it. An older suburb of Tokyo, the trees were fairly well established and everything was covered in vines. They were parked outside of an alleyway lined with wooden fences, at least six feet tall and also vine-covered. Karasuma was standing in the middle, looking around.

Sakaki slowly walked into the alleyway, looking curiously at the way the watery sunlight shone into the alleyway and reflected a hundred times off of the various bits of aluminum everywhere. Curiously, he touched a bit on the wall beside him, trying to pry it off, but it seemed to have become a part of the wood. He would have had to take off part of the fence to get the metal.

"Well. I think we can say this was a witch," he said dryly, as he turned from the fence.

Karasuma nodded. "I think so, too." She tugged off a glove and half-knelt on the cement, reaching out a hand to a glob of metal that was larger than the rest.

At first, she controlled it, just to make sure that she could. Once she had found that she did still have her powers somewhat in check, she allowed her craft to take over. It flashed over the misshapen piece of aluminum like a net, and then came back to her, carrying its prize of emotional tags with it.

_'Darkness, people, then, sudden fear, like a wave. A great unending fear of the depths of the ocean, creatures rising, unknown to man, from the deep, dragging down to play in the deep. Drowning, deeper, deeper, can't breath, death. Cold. Going to die_,_ can't breathe, please, just let it end, let it end… … …. A voice, calling._

_Touch, warm._

_Voice, there is life here! Here? Where am I?_

_Touch, warm, reality, what is reality? Trash can, trash, Motoka, wife. Breathe in, breath out, breathe in, the scent of olives, the sound of voices, it wasn't real…I'm alive…it wasn't real…'_

She opened her eyes, frowning deeper as she tried to interpret what she had just seen.

"What was it?" Sakaki asked, noticing her movement.

"I'm not sure." She said, standing and pulling her gloves back on. "Something scared whoever this was badly, very badly, almost to insanity."

"You can't tell who it is?"

"No, even with my powers like this, whatever happened disrupted it sufficiently enough that the only thing I got physically was …" she paused, frowning deeper. "The scent of olives."

Sakaki stiffened, face immediately adopting a dour look. "You're sure, I guess?" he said, hoping that she wasn't.

She nodded, looking as happy as he was. "Yes. I think that Single-Eye may have come back."

"_Kuso._" Sakaki muttered. For a moment, they were silent, digesting this new information. He then pressed on his ear piece. "Michael?"

"Yeah, Sakaki? Got anything?"

"We do, but you're not going to like it. It's Single-Eye."

"Single-Eye? How do you know?" he sounded surprised.

Karasuma joined the conversation. "The metal has fear all over it, the wild kind of fear that he uses. The scent of olives is also in the emotions."

A pause, and Michael sighed. "Kosaka says to get to the walled city, pronto, and explain things to Kenshio. If she runs into him without warning, we'll have a problem on our hands."

They both nodded, knowing that Michael couldn't see them, but doing it anyway. "Copy that," Karasuma said, as they both turned to their respective vehicles. "Have you got a lock on her?"

As they started their vehicles, Michael rattled off her latest position, promising to keep them updated if she moved drastically.

* * *

After he had given Karasma and Sakaki Kenshio's position, he switched frequencies and tried to raise the replacement.

"Kenshio."

Nothing. Not surprising; sometimes the walled city messed up the radios. He checked her location again, and frowned. She was in a place that he knew for certain had never had problems with communication. But she defiantly wasn't answering him. What was going on? He shrugged. There was a first time for everything, he supposed, like the wind blowing a different way than usual and disrupting something. Still, he kept a careful eye on her position

* * *

When they arrived, Kenshio was no where to be seen.

"Michael hasn't said anything, so she's probably somewhere nearby," Karasuma said.

"Michael, do you copy?" Sakaki said into his mouthpiece. "We're here, but I don't see Kenshio."

Michael crackled back on, voice confused. "Yeah, I copy. She's west four blocks."

"Why didn't you say so?"

They both heard the strained note in his voice. "I couldn't raise her, so I thought you two would be out of reach as well. There's no indication on her heart graph that she's in trouble, though, it's been steady the whole time."

Sakaki and Karasuma glanced once at each other and took off, heading quickly to the west. They had gone less than two steps when Michael came back on. "Heart rate just spiked, she's moving north and east, weaving in and out of streets. I think she's got a pursuer."

"Why isn't she firing, if she's being chased?" Sakaki said, looking to Miho for directions.

She shook her head. "If it's Single-eye, she might not be able to use the gun," she said, then tapped her earpiece. "Michael, any pattern?"

"She's weaving between the route you're taking and one street over."

Karasuma nodded. "Sakaki, go to the other street and try to catch her, I'll stay on this side. Michael, keep us updated."

Sakaki nodded and trotted up the alleyway leading to the next street over, taking out his gun and checking the safety. It was on and he paused, contemplating the sanity of carrying the gun out if Kenshio was being affected by Single-eye. She was an ice-craft user, and he had no interest in being frozen on the spot due to a misunderstanding. As he reached the other street, he put the gun away, turning the corner and keeping his eyes peeled for the other hunter.

He kept jogging, and soon he had gone the four blocks to where she supposedly had been before. But he hadn't seen a single sign of her, and Karasuma hadn't said anything about finding her. Frowning, he doubled back around and started back, saying over the radio "Miss Karasuma? Have you found her?"

There was no reply. Warning bells went off in his mind, and he immediately turned down an alley leading back to the street he had just departed. "Michael, do you know where she is?"

Michael sounded frustrated when he came back on. "Yes. She's past you guys now; but she passed right by Miss Karasuma; I don't know what happened."

Sakaki was about to reply, but stopped when he got out from the alleyway. Karasuma stood rigid, gun trained at a doorway to a building. She was nearly backed against a wall, but who ever was in the door way was hidden from view. He knew who it was, though, and took out his gun, this time flicking the safety off. Very slowly, he eased over to stand beside his partner, revealing the person in the doorway to be, unsurprisingly, Single-eye himself.

Single-eye had changed from his recollection of the man whom Robin had described. He looked almost clean cut, as if he had recently come in to some money. He still retained an almost insane look, though, as if driving others crazy with fear had left him somewhat mad as well. He proved this further when he saw Sakaki and practically grinned, despite the two guns being steadily trained on him.

"Why hello again, young man," he said, sounding despicably cheerful. "It's been awhile, hasn't it?"

Sakaki chose not to reply, speaking instead to Karasuma. "Why didn't you call me?"

She shook her head minutely. "I only saw him a moment before you got here." She paused, grimacing. "He actually stopped me."

Again warning bells went off in his head, and he resettled his gun arm, still aimed at the man in the doorway.

"Well sure I did," the man said amicably, stepping from the building. "It shouldn't be so wrong to say hello to an old acquaintance, now should it?"

"If by acquaintance, you mean hunter, then you have a strange sense of humor," Sakaki said, following Single-Eye's movement with his gun.

The man actually chuckled. "Well, we knew that, didn't we?"

"What are you doing?" Karasuma suddenly broke in. "We know you've been awakening other witches, but why? And how have they been going back to their daily lives after you've used your power on them?"

"As if simple Hunters, like you, could understand such a thing," the man said flippantly. "Why, do you want me to tell you who they are, so that you can hunt and kill them? So that your organization can send you out with guns and black vans again?"

"Just answer her," Sakaki said. He could tell that the man had hit a nerve with his partner and, recalling her words about killing merely from orders, he couldn't say the words hadn't struck a chord in him, as well.

"Oh, look at the time," the witch said, glancing up at the sky. "You'll have to excuse me, but I must go."

"Stop!" Sakaki said, about to squeeze the trigger, but suddenly, a wave of olive-scented breeze washed over him. His mouth immediately went dry as Single-eye glanced at him, grabbing his eyes and holding them. His breath caught in his throat, and he suddenly remembered the last time this had happened. But, this was more intense, he hadn't been faced with the witch's gaze last time. He tried to say something, but whatever words he would have said were stillborn in his mouth.

Just as he was about to break down, there was a spot of warmth on his shoulder. He shuddered once and looked down; Karasuma had reached a hand over to him, resting it on his shoulder and squeezing slightly. His parched mouth suddenly re-wet, and he knew that he was not going to die of fear in that alley. Taking a deep breath, he carefully nodded to show he had regained control. She returned her hand to her gun. "Stay with me," she said quietly.

"I plan to," he replied.

Single-eye looked between the two of them for a moment, face betraying his disbelief. Then he smirked. "I see," he said.

Things suddenly seemed to happen very fast for Sakaki Haruto. From his pocket, Single-eye took a heavy looking ball and threw it hard - straight at him. He blinked, letting his craft catch the ball and suspend it in mid-air. It had been a long time since there had been a need for his slight telekinesis, but it was very helpful when physically reaching out and catching something was unwise. He realized, too late though, that the real danger was not to him, but his partner. As soon as the ball that was headed for him left Single-eye's hand, he took out a second and threw it in the same manner at Karasuma. She had her gloves off and, lacking his craft power, was forced to catch the ball as it came at her face. Knowing she was vulnerable, he whirled to shoot the witch before he could do anything else, but Single-eye had disappeared.

All within the space of a breath. Sakaki cursed as he realized that he couldn't pursue immediately; Miho's craft wouldn't let her off the hook, and he wasn't about to leave her all alone. Still, they could pursue when the scrying was over.

There was a gasp, ragged and strained. He spun in surprise, just in time to steady Karasuma, who was swaying as if she were drunk. Her hand still clutched the ball that Single-eye had chucked at her, gripping it so hard her knuckles were white. Her gun clattered to the pavement and, miraculously, did not fire. He frowned. He knew that it felt like it had only been seconds since she had caught the ball, but in reality, it had to have been at least half a minute. Her visions rarely lasted so long.

Suddenly, she dropped to the ground, knees folding beneath her, the rest of her body following.

"Miho!" He caught her head before it could knock against the concrete and give her a concussion. Her hand was still clamped around the ball, clinging to it as if her life depended upon it. Her eyes screwed shut; he could just barely make out a whimper coming from deep in her throat. One hand cradling her head on his knees, he reached out the other to try to pry the ball from her grasp. It proved impossible; it was like the ball was a life-line, though whether that line was to life, or death, he couldn't tell.

"Miho …" he whispered, "Miho, let go of it. Stay with me, come back."

She squeezed her eyes tighter shut, as if she could hear him, but didn't want to listen. He leaned closer.

"Miho, please come back, you can get through this, come on." He didn't even realize how frightened he was at the prospect of her not getting through this; being brought down by a small plastic ball. He didn't realize how much it scared him to have to live through the loss of yet another co-worker, yet another friend. "Miho," he said, voice breaking, "stay with me." All that mattered was her coming back, it didn't even occur to him how terrified he was at the thought of a hunt, of a day of work, a day ... period, without her; not until she gasped again and opened her eyes.

"Haruto," She said, breathily, and the ball was suddenly dropped. It rolled away, and she gasped again, as if air was a luxury she could not get enough of. "Oh god, Haruto," She said again, and curled into a fetal position, her hands finding his arm and clamping on.

He let out a breath that he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. She was obviously terrified, shaking and crying into his knees, but she was alive; and she still knew his name. Trying to sooth her, he ran a gloved hand through her hair, thankful that he was used to wearing gloves on hunts. He only wished that she had left hers on. But she hadn't practiced shooting in them, and who would have expected someone to take advantage of that? He found himself hating Single-eye more than he had before. First his mind, and then his partner's.

Her grip on his arm loosened, and her shaking ceased. Slowly, her breathing became more normal, and she relaxed. Sakaki found himself wishing he could take off his gloves, take her hand and tell her that she would be fine, but didn't want to compound her problems. And so he continued to run gloved hands through her hair, as if she were a frightened child he needed to calm before bed. He looked down when he felt a tug on his jacket; she had moved her hands to grip the cloth there, bringing it to the base of her neck and resting her head on the fist she made. Smiling slightly, he rested the now free hand on her shoulder. Her face looked much more relaxed and, though he wanted to ask her if she would be all right, he stayed silent. No words really needed to be said; he knew she would be fine, if he just gave her time. He was willing to give as much as she needed.

Finally, he realized that Michael had been completely cut from the last ten minutes. He would be worried; especially since, last he knew, they had been separated and looking for Kenshio. Things had changed considerably since that moment. Slowly, he reached a hand up and tapped his ear-piece.

"Michael?"

"Sakaki! What happened? You suddenly chipped out on me there."

Sakaki sighed, looking down at Karasuma's haggard face. She hadn't moved since calming; he rather suspected that she was asleep. "Yeah, well, we were attacked."

"What? By who?"

"Single-eye. I'll explain when we get back; have you found Kenshio?"

The tapping of keys made it's way through the radio, as Michael answered. "Yeah. She came back on to the radio about a block after passing your cars. I didn't know where you guys were, so I told her to wait there."

"What happened?"

"She thought she was being followed, and her radio was apparently just fritzing." He could almost hear the gears in Michael's head struggling to make sense of it all. "You and Miss Karasuma are ok?"

"We will be." Sakaki said, looking down at his partner.

"All right. The chief says to get back here and report."

"We might be a minute. She took a pretty bad hit, mentally; it may take some time to recover."

Kosaka's voice came over the ear-piece. "Just get here within the hour, Sakaki. I want a full report."

"Yes sir." He replied dutifully. "I'll do my best."

He let his hand drop, ignoring Michael's sign-off, and leaned down again. "Miss Karasuma," he said quietly. She did not respond, and he sighed, running his hand through her hair once more. "Miho." She scrunched her eyes once, and then opened them. "Can you get up?" He asked quietly.

She paused, then nodded. "My gloves," she said, voice rasping as if she had been screaming, "in my pocket."

He nodded and reached in to her pocket, drawing out the dark grey gloves. They were incredibly light and thin, he recognized the texture of silk. He marveled, that such a little amount of material could protect her so well amazed him. Solemnly, he handed them to her. She put them on immediately, and then rested her head against his knees again, as if even that movement had tired her. He waited patiently, and soon, she opened her eyes again.

"I'm so tired." She whispered.

He gave her shoulder a squeeze. "We have at least an hour; take your time."

She nodded. "I think I can sit up."

"All right." He said, nodding encouragingly.

She took a deep breath, and drew her knees up to her chest, rolling on to them and raising her body up. Sakaki helped her as best he could, and soon she was kneeling in front of him, a hand on either shoulder for support. She bowed her head into one shoulder, breathing slowly. Unsure of what to do, he placed a hand on either side of her torso to keep her steady, patiently bowing his head over hers.

For a moment, they stayed as such, and then, like a slow dance, she moved again, and he followed, always supporting her and offering quiet encouragement. Minutes later, she was standing, leaning slightly into him.

"Ready?" he asked quietly. She looked up at him, eyes glazed as if she had not slept in ages, and swallowed.

"Yes." She said.

There was a pause, like the slight suspension of movement in a wave before washing on to the shore. And then she stepped forward, and he followed. Like two cranes in a dance; they moved down the street, she moving, and he following.

* * *

**Mhmm. So. What'cha think? Eh? **

**Well, I'm sure you'll tell me if you want to.**

**Some of this chapter really sucked to write. I'm not sure if that comes across or not, but I tell ya, not writing fluff when you _really _want to is hell. But I'm sure most of you know this. The rest was fun though -**

**Very much thanks goes to auntie.mom for her lovely beta. :hands over the codeine-laced coffee:**

**Also to Harry's (seriously, I think they'll get a thanks every time…) for being very cool and forcing me to plug my nose to keep from cackling when my room mate is asleep.**

**Next Chapter:**

**You've proved yourself to be a lot more than just a partner; especially in the last 24 hours. When you can; use my given name. I don't hear it enough anyway."**

**Kissies! ;-D**


	5. Can't Hear it Enough

**Yay! Another Chapter! Fluff! Plot! Espionage!**

**Um. Yeah. Read. Review, authors notes at end.

* * *

**

After a few minutes of silence, Karasuma finally voiced what bothered her most about the encounter. "He did that on purpose."

"You mean he specifically threw that ball at you to do that?"

She began to nod, then winced, and sighed. "Yes."

Sakaki frowned. "But how did he know that you'd …" he hesitated, searching for the right words for the hell she had just been dragged through.

"Be so susceptible?" Her face contorted, drawing into a tight mask of barely hidden disgust. "Everyone is, around here." She felt his questioning gaze and continued. "It was the Orbo. While it was being made, fumes were being released into the environment. Even the vapor had an impact; witches powers were suppressed. I think that's why my power was fading just before the factory collapsed. I was in constant close contact with it," she winced again, and he felt her grip on his arm tighten. "It was more powerful than we could have guessed, affecting so many, on so great a scale …"

"That's incredible," he muttered quietly. "It also explains a lot, like why the richer neighborhoods are suddenly awakening so quickly; they were closer to the factory than the walled city."

"He's doing it, too," she said through gritted teeth. "We were right; he's going around and scaring them. And with the Orbo no longer putting a damper on their witch blood, their powers open up like flood gates." Sakaki looked over; she was clenching her jaw, the hand not holding on to him clenched against her chest. Suddenly, she gasped in pain.

He stopped. "Are you all right?" he said, facing her.

She looked up at him, "Ye," she started, and then abruptly lost steam, "no." Her face fell, and he could tell that she had been holding off pain for at least as long as they had been walking. "I feel like I've been run over by several trucks," she whispered, "Haruto, he knew. He put everything he could in to that ball, and he knew I'd see all of it …" she trailed off, voice stopped and breathing ragged again. Sakaki saw her eyes shift, and knew she wasn't seeing the walled city anymore; she was back in memory.

"Miho." He said, shaking her slightly. She shivered and looked up at him. "Don't go back there," he said, voice quiet, but forceful.

"But I have to." She said softly, pleadingly. "There were other things in there; he couldn't keep from putting some of his plans in there, and I've seen them." She frowned. "Something about Kenshio …"

Sakaki glared, and put both of his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. "I am not worried about Kenshio," He said. "She's probably back at the office by now." He sighed, breaking his gaze and allowing one arm to slip back to her waist to support her. Voice softening considerably, he looked away, "I'm worried about you. At least wait until you're back in the office before you think about it again."

He felt her gaze on his face for a moment, and then more weight settled on his arm. "All right," she said quietly.

They kept walking.

* * *

It had been half an hour since he'd called Michael when they got back to the vehicles. Sakaki felt like it had been an eternity since they'd left them, at a run, to find their wayward co-worker. He wondered if Karasuma was thinking the same thing; she had been attacked through her mind. He knew she was traumatized, despite the brave face she put on; one hand was still clenched tightly at the base of her neck, as if she could hold all of her fear there on a leash. Still, her reliance on his support seemed to have decreased, she was almost walking entirely without his help. They drew even with her car, and he slowly withdrew his arm from behind her, thinking that she would want to stand on her own before getting into her car. To his surprise, though, as he began to step away, her hand shot out and drew him back, her head against his shoulder and fingers twisting in his jacket. She was shaking again, though only just, as if the thought of losing contact with him scared her. Every nerve clamoring in confusion, he looked down, opening his mouth to ask her what was wrong. 

"No," she said, before a breath could leave his lips. "Just, stay."

He closed his mouth. Hesitantly, he wrapped both arms around her frame, drawing her in a little closer. Movement ceased for a moment, and he was happy to stay still, when, before, it seemed like everything had been moving fast.

After a moment, she drew a deep breath and sighed. "Thank you," she said, into his jacket.

He wasn't sure what to say in such a moment, and said, "Its fine."

"Is it, really?" she asked, voice still muffled against him.

The question gave him pause. He thought for a moment, and reached the same conclusion that his first instincts had screamed at him. "Yes," he said finally, "yes, its fine." _'More than fine,' _he thought, _'if you wanted me to be perfectly honest and blunt, I'd say I was happy to hold you.' _He quickly pushed those thoughts from his mind.

She nodded, apparently not trusting her voice, and breathed deeply again. It felt _wonderful _to be held. She'd just been proverbially shot down by a rubber ball; and her mind felt like it was in shreds. At this point, human contact should have been the last thing she could want. Somehow, though, she had become fond of the oddly clean smell of his clothes and peaceful feeling that radiated from him. He cared passionately about things; and he had shed the naiveté that had kept him from doing things about it. And it was nice, because she could feel that from him; there wasn't anything viciously deceitful, and no ulterior motives.

'_Since when did he become a super hero?' _she thought to herself. She couldn't answer, and didn't want to. Instead, she pressed herself into his shoulder once, memorizing the way it felt to be held by another human being and then pulled away. In a moment of pain, he'd helped her, and she had accepted the help. Now it was time to get up and go on. She hoped she'd never need to do such a thing again, but a part of her was sad at the prospect of being an island again. _'It's better for me, this way,' _she thought, _'I can't get hurt, he can't get hurt, everything can go back to normal.' _

She wore a very pensive look as she nodded her thanks to him and stepped to her car door; opening it, but stopping half-way in. He wondered if perhaps she had slipped back into the memory and grabbed the door, stopping her. She looked up at him in surprise; "Miss Karasuma?" his voice was a gentle question.

For a moment, she looked at him, confused. "Miho," she finally said softly, lips and voice moving of their own accord.

"Pardon?"

She looked surprised, though whether at herself or at him, he couldn't tell. "You've proved yourself to be more than a partner, especially in the last 24 hours," she said, face deepening seriously. "When you can, use my given name." She suddenly smiled wryly, "I don't hear it enough anyway."

Stunned, he cocked his head to the side. _'Maybe I should get used to the idea of surprises,' _he thought slowly, _'she's more full of them than I suspected.' _

"All right," he said finally, "but only if you call me Haruto." He smirked, "I guess I don't hear my given name enough, either."

She nodded, hand coming off of the window and into the car. "Fine," she said, and disappeared, sitting down and starting the engine. The door closed, and Sakaki was left standing in the alleyway, not knowing quite what to make of the situation.

* * *

"It was a malicious move. He knew exactly what he was doing." 

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

Kosaka sighed. "And why did it work?" he asked. Karasuma looked down, her eyes clearly showing shame, but her voice was even as she answered.

"It's a long story, sir."

"Well, we certainly have time," the man said sternly, then rubbed a temple. "I'm sorry, Miho, but I really must know."

Karasuma took a breath, and let it out slowly. Sakaki, leaning against the doorway, noticed her hands clenching once, then twice, in her lap. _She doesn't want to tell him,_ he realized, _she's afraid he might turn on her. _He sympathized with her. While her craft was not dangerous to others, physically, if she lost her mind to too many scars, she could become a danger. He was half afraid of his own craft acting out. Though he rarely had need of it, his craft was fairly strong, and he had no interest in hurting others.

"Before the Factory," she began, voice strong, "my craft had begun to decline. I thought that perhaps it had reached its peak and was now going to leave me in peace," she sighed. "From Single-eye's attack, though, I have learned that the Orbo was the true reason."

"The Orbo!" Kosaka said in surprise, "How, though? You were never shot!" He paused, realizing that she had been in the Factory for a very long time. "Were you?"

She shook her head to indicate that he was correct. "No, I wasn't. However, even when held in a capsule, it still had an effect in dampening powers." There was a pause as she gathered her thoughts. "Also, when the factory was producing Orbo, it released vapors from the process into the air surrounding the city. While it had no adverse affects, per se, it did dampen powers that were within seeds and craft users that lived nearer the Factory."

Kosaka took a moment to digest what his employee had just said. Sakaki closed his eyes tiredly, waiting for the man's consensus. "Well," he grunted finally, "this explains quite a bit." Sakaki heard him move to sit down. "The richer neighborhoods are within reach of the winds, I'm sure. Probably yet another reason why the walled city was such a hot spot of witch activity; it's on the other side of the city."

Karasuma nodded.

"But how does Single-eye know all of this?" the balding man mused. "He's a witch; technically, he shouldn't even know about the Factory."

Sakaki started. He hadn't thought of that, and, remembering Miho's insistence that Kenshio had been in the emotions on the ball, looked sharply to the girl. She was standing at what looked suspiciously like parade rest, hands in a fist at the base of her back, legs shoulder-width apart, staring at Miho intensely. She either ignored, or did not notice, Sakaki's gaze, and her face did not change as Miho spoke.

"I don't know. There is an informant; an accomplice, but we knew that all ready. He is awakening people, and the other person probably has a complimentary power to calm them once their powers have come out." She shook her head, and then turned her gaze to the replacement. "You were somewhere in that ball; I never heard what happened; did you see him?"

Kenshio nodded sharply. "I did. He was not able to use his power on me; I saw that I was in a danger that I couldn't protect myself from, so I retreated."

"You have power, why didn't you use it?" Kosaka asked bluntly.

She narrowed her eyes slightly; Sakaki could have sworn there was disgust there. "I did not have time, and I do not have the ability to block an invisible attack. My ice does not have the same shielding power as your last craft user's power." Everyone winced. She was talking about Robin, apparently never having gotten the message that the girl was still a sore subject in the office. "I knew that his powers did not physically manifest when I smelled olives where they should not have been. I did what any good hunter should do when they do not have the upper-hand and they do not believe that they can gain it. I turned and ran."

"Fine," Kosaka said gruffly, obviously mollified at having his veiled accusations so deftly knocked aside.

Sakaki sighed; something didn't seem to fit. He wasn't quite sure what it was, though, and decided to let it simmer in the back of his mind until he could articulate it. Karasuma had a frown on her face; he suspected that she felt the same. Michael was frowning but, not knowing why or how, the reason eluded him. Perhaps he had questions also; after all, he probably had more raw information on what had happened. Kosaka, sitting at the head of the table, finally grunted.

"Very well," he said. "Michael, drag out everything you can on Single-eye." Michael nodded, and Kosaka turned to the replacement. "Kenshio, I don't want you in the walled city, but go to the neighborhoods and try to dig up some information. I want to know as much as we can about his accomplice of his." She nodded and strode briskly from the room, heels clicking on the cement. Kosaka looked to the senior hunters, and sighed. "I know you two have had a hell of a day, but could you stay here and make up a report?" He looked down to Miho, "Especially you, Miss Karasuma. I want to know as much as you can remember from that scry."

She looked up and nodded slowly. She looked like death warmed over, but stood up and smoothed out her jacket. "Of course. I'll …" she swallowed, "I'll start right away."

Kosaka apparently didn't notice her hesitation, but Sakaki and Michael did. As the balding man left the room, they both drew a little closer.

"I don't believe her." Michael said bluntly.

"Her story checks out," Karasuma said quietly, "but I think something's wrong too."

"But, what?" Sakaki joined in, "I know something is wrong here, but I can't put my finger on it."

Michael sighed. "I can tell you why. It's because you walked right past her and didn't see her." He sat next to one of the computers and pulled up a map, on it a glowing red line."

"This is her path," he said, pointing at the line. "She went by you, Karasuma, and then you, Sakaki. And neither of you saw her, right?" They both shook their heads. Michael growled. "I think I know what happened, and something is defiantly fishy." He tapped the keyboard for a moment, and blue lines came up, highlighting the red and tracing a grid that snaked around the map of the walled city in a strange pattern.

"What is that?" Sakaki asked, leaning closer.

"The sewer lines of the walled city. Just as I thought," Michael said. He swiveled in his chair to look at them. "Why would Kenshio be down in the sewers? And why does her flight path start where you two encountered Single-Eye?"

"There are some informants in the sewers, I suppose …" Karasuma said, trailing off.

"But they're mostly crazies, and how would she know about them so quickly?" Sakaki finished the thought for her, and she nodded.

"Certainly information gathering was one of her recommendations when she came," she said quietly, "but that's just unnatural."

"That, and wouldn't Single-Eye at least somewhat pursue her?" Sakaki said, "She said that she thought she was being followed." He crossed his arms, "I don't like it."

"You're right, and neither do I." Karasuma said, and stood up. "But there isn't much we can do about it right now." She steadied herself on the wall, and smiled at the two tiredly. "I've got a report to write, and then I'm going to go home." With that, she began to walk from the room. Sakaki stood and followed, excusing himself on grounds of wanting to help her. Michael looked after them, cocking his head.

'_Since when do they finish each-other's sentences?' _he thought in slight confusion. In the year since Sakaki had come, Michael had never heard such an exchange of thoughts between the partners. '_Well, I suppose it's about time they got used to each other, anyhow_,_' _he finally decided, and turned back to his computer.

* * *

"What the hell was that little encounter? I told you specifically not to confront them!" 

"And I told you, I'm doing this for two reasons; revenge and money."

"I don't give a fuck what you're doing it for, you're doing it, and you're doing it under _my_ orders."

A chuckle permeated the night air. "Oh so, just because you're betraying the boss, that gives you the right to order me around? Remember whose craft is stronger here."

There was a growl, and the sudden _click _of the safety of a gun. "I know your power nearly as well as the back of my hand. I could kill you before you could truly affect me."

"But then your little liberation would be ruined."

"I would find a way."

"Then go ahead; do it. I'm not afraid to die."

"As if I would let a bastard like you die because you asked it of me."

"Bitch."

"That's right. Now tell me why you did it. If you had wanted to kill them, you could have, easily."

"As if a spy like you would understand."

There was a grunt as something hard met soft stomach tissue. A gun cocked and was set against a temple, steel grey eyes meeting a lone wandering brown. "Tell me, now."He spit on her shoe, she didn't even glance down, keeping what part of his gaze that she could. "Tell me, or I swear I will freeze your body limb by limb; each finger will fall off from frostbite, and each toe will break off in your shoes."

"I was giving her information." The man finally said.

"Why?" There was a hint of surprise in her voice. "You said revenge. Why would you do such a thing?"

"For having such knowledge of espionage, you do not see?" She glared at him. "My revenge does not lie with them."

"They hunted you just like the others; how can your revenge not lie with them?"

"Let me ask you, madam spy, if you wished to stop gears from spinning, would you remove the belts that drive them, one by one?" He paused, and then answered the question himself, "No, you would remove the one gear that spins them all, thus stopping the whole works, and you would let the smaller gears work against the one that leads them."

Another pause, and ... slowly ... , the safety of the gun clicked on again. "And you want to set some gears turning the other way."

"Yes."

There was a sigh. "I do not understand you. I have seen them at work, they could not possibly turn."

"Yes, but you did not see _her_ at work with them. She taught them much, in her passing."

A growl. "They did not care about her. They do not care for witches at all, they _are_ witches, they have seen and felt _her, _and yet they still hunt. They are monsters."

The man laughed; a rolling thunder that sounded out of place in the dark night and even darker conversation.

"You find something funny?"

A short guffaw more, and he turned his good eye on her, blazing fury. "You say that you want liberation, you say that you want community. You want us all to live in harmony, and yet here you stand before me, wishing ill upon those that you need to make peace with the most!" He looked away. "You fanatics disgust me."

She trained a gaze on him again. "Fine. Hate me. I brought you back from madness, pay you to help me, and you question me. So long as you do your job, I do not care what you think of me."

He was silent for a moment. "Watch them; you will see; they could be turned to us."

"Go to hell."

"Only when I can drag you down with me."Silence. A shift in weight. "So, are we going to be able to do anything tonight? Or are you going to be the spoiled brat and run?"

"I am not a spoiled brat, and I do not run."

"You did this morning."

"It would have been fine, if you had not sought them out."

"I explained my reasons. I see no reason to justify them further. Now, do we have someone or not?"

A pause, as if contemplating another awakening. It was tempting, she couldn't deny the power and pride she felt, awakening witches to their rightful power, teaching them control. But they had very nearly been found out today, and they couldn't risk it. The blood of witches was going nowhere. A sigh. "No. We need to lay low for a time. We will continue in a fortnight."

* * *

**You like?** **Well. I liked writing the espionage bit. It was fun. The fluff was fun too. **

**Thanks goes to: Harry's - for being cool.**

**auntie.mom- for betaing**

**Rhiannion - for chattering with meabout fanfic in generaland our respective stories- chocolate sauce and dry cleaning gift certificates, oh yeah!**

**itunes- for having music sharing! YESSSSS! **

**Um...I'm rambling in the thank yous. Next chapter: An annoying phone, a witch, lots more espionage, and a decision.**


	6. Justification

**Well. It's three in the morning. Go Fanfiction addictions, huh? I wanted to post this so I could work on chapter seven without having this sitting here. **

**Read now, I'll talk at you later, as usual! .

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_Ring, ring…_

_Ring…ring…_

The sound beside her ear insisted that she arise and attend to its source, and, hesitating only a moment, she complied. This was her job, her life. She was a puppet to the STN-J, working late into the night, and jumping for the phone early in the morning.

_Ring…Ring…_

She opened her eyes, and realized that it was not morning. She had only been in bed for two hours. Grabbing the phone that was still ringing by her bed, she flipped it open, and answered, "Karasuma."

"Miss Karasuma!" Michael's voice cut through the night, waking her up a little more. "The police just contacted us."

"Why?"

There was an intake of breath, as if Michael was about to launch into a long explanation, and she abruptly remembered _why_. After the incident with Single-Eye two weeks ago, Kosaka had cajoled the police into notifying them of any incidents in the neighborhoods that had been sending out the calls. So far, there hadn't been any activity, but it seemed that Single-Eye and his accomplice had gone back to their awakenings. "Never mind," she said, rubbing her eyes, and swinging her legs off the bed. "Where?"

"Two blocks north of where you and Sakaki were last time."

"All right, have you gotten through to everyone?"

"Sakaki is on his way. But, Kenshio..." There was a pause. "I tried her three times and then moved on to you."

Mentally, Karasuma cursed. She didn't trust the replacement as far as she could throw her, although Kenshio had come directly from headquarters. Karasuma suspected that the woman was a spy for SOLOMON, much like Doujima had been. But Doujima had been sent to investigate the Orbo. Kenshio, it seemed, was sent to investigate _them._ "Keep trying, Michael. When you get a hold of her, send her to us. If it's violent, we're going to need as many people as possible."

"Got it, contact me when you get there."

"Fine." She closed the phone, and pulled on her shoes, grabbing her gun on her way out of the living room. Locking the door, she wondered ruefully what her neighbors thought of her. She told them she was an emergency room assistant, to explain the strange hours. It seemed to work and, since she wasn't very close to the people in her complex, there was never any need to explain further. She only saw them during the holidays, anyway; to them, she was probably the odd young woman in Apartment #153, who always dressed in long suit jackets and business skirts, and snuck out of her rooms at one in the morning.

Well, it was better than telling them what she really did, she thought, as she got into her car. From what little she knew of them, she guessed that they would not like to hear that she killed people who had gone mad for a living, even if that madness entailed more than trying to bite one's ear. Even if it included killing people without knowing, or meaning to. She shook her head, as her thoughts began to lead her down paths she knew she shouldn't take, for the sake of her peace of mind.

It had become harder and harder, over the last two weeks, to push those thoughts to the back of her mind. She had done it successfully for almost five years, convincing herself, first, that these people needed to be killed, for their own sake, and other's. Then, she had convinced herself that the Orbo was the more humane way... and then, again, that killing was better. After Robin, and the Factory, it had been more difficult than she expected. After Single-Eye's attack, it had proved nearly impossible. The images in his attack had been very specific; people pleading not to be killed, begging to live, even as power poured from them an!d engulfed their world. And then they screamed. The screams still kept her up at night, making her fear closing her eyes. But, after the screams, there was hope. That was what confused her, kept her up, sitting on the edge of her bed with her chin in her hands. Why so hopeful? Why so happy, thankful? Could it mean that the screams she heard were not the screams of the dying? That the people Single-Eye awoke really were able to return to normal life, without madness, and with control?

If that was so, then how could she justify hunting a person who was still able to function within society? She mulled over it whenever she had a moment to herself; and still had not found an answer. It was not surprising that she was still at a dead end when she reached the address, pulling her car near another and getting out.

Kenshio was standing in the pool of light surrounding a street lamp, leaning up against the post, her arms crossed, and staring at the ground. Karasuma watched her for a moment, trying her best to give her co-worker the benefit of the doubt. She didn't know where Kenshio lived; the woman was probably nearer to the neighborhood than she was. That decided, she walked to her, and found that Kenshio's arms were not merely crossed. One hand was tightly gripping her bicep, as if she was in pain.

"What happened, Kenshio?"

She looked up, long hair nearly covering her face. "I was stupid, and tried to go in as soon as I got here."

"And?"

"He is an earth witch, and I was attacked. It isn't bad." She lifted her hand to reveal a very shallow gash and a ripped shirt.

Karasuma sighed, hearing Sakaki's motorcycle coming towards them. "Did you see where he went? Can we still track him?"

Kenshio nodded. "Yes." She sounded oddly hollow, as if she did not want to give up the man's location. "He is still in that alleyway." She pointed half-heartedly to a dark opening half a block down.

Karasuma nodded, and looked over her shoulder at Sakaki, who was getting off of his bike. He drew his gun and nodded his readiness. Kenshio pushed herself away from the post and shook back her hair, one hand laid on her gun grip. Silent, like black ghosts, the three of them ran to the alley; Karasuma and Kenshio going to one side, and Sakaki taking the other. Karasuma watched as Sakaki leaned his head carefully into the alley, keeping himself as small as possible. They made eye contact, and he nodded. As one, they pivoted to stand in the alley, guns drawn, and peering into the gloom. Kenshio took up a spot between and a little behind them, gun also drawn. For a moment, nothing happened, and Karasuma wondered if perhaps Kenshio had gotten it wrong. Suddenly, an angry yell issued from the darkness, and she could feel a swell of power. She ducked and rolled, but it! proved unnecessary. She saw rock and dirt flying between her and Sakaki, nearly taking off Kenshio's head. As it was, the replacement only just got away.

'_What the hell?'_ she thought, as another attack went _right past her_, the one who was closest, and headed for Kenshio. The woman again ducked and rolled, this time coming to her feet and narrowing her eyes. Karasuma held her breath as a wave of cold air swept past her, condensing on the man in front of them.

He did not seem to be aware that anything was happening to him, and continued to breathe hard, hands clenched into fists at his side. Sakaki noticed that he was almost drooling; his eyes had a crazed look about them. As Kenshio advanced, his breathing became more rapid, and his mouth dropped open.

"No," he said, voice gravelly. "No! Don't touch me! Get away!"

Kenshio continued. Sakaki could see the lacey beginnings of frost curling around his feet, and felt the air going dry as she drew moisture from it to assist her. Her craft could make temperatures drop, but, unlike some, she could not manifest the ice itself. He hoped that she could find enough humidity to do something useful. As she advanced, the man began to scramble back, or try to. His shoes had frozen to the pavement and, instead, he fell hard, his hands cracking with the impact.

Her advance was slow and steady, and Sakaki found himself comparing her style to Robin's. They were polar opposites, it seemed. Robin was quick; battles had never taken long while she was on the team. Her manner had always been intense and alert, even when she had not had her glasses to focus her power through. Kenshio was no less intense, but it was different. It was not anger, exactly, but a certain animosity seemed to radiate from her, as she froze the man's hands to the pavement, while they all watched in a mix of awe and horror. Kenshio's power was slow and creeping, like the cold that took people's hearts in the loss of hope. Then the man began to scream, and it was then that Sakaki realized the biggest difference between Kenshio and Robin's powers.

He had never heard the screams, with Robin. A gasp, a yelp, but never the heart-rending wail that was now coming from the man in front of him. The man struggled against his own frozen body, spitting and yelling, and even though his body was still heaving and writhing, his face reflected that he knew what was coming. He knew what they were here to do. '_We are monsters,'_ Sakaki suddenly thought

Kenshio stepped back, and Sakaki snapped from his self-induced trance. He almost fancied that Kenshio had frozen his heart when she stepped into the STN-J for the first time - that she had frozen all their hearts. As he looked down the barrel of his gun at the man in front of him, he wondered how else he could justify doing this.

"Higushini Arimato." Miho's voice suddenly broke in where no words had been before. "Is that your name?"

"Yes! No! There are no names anymore," the man said, and wriggled, his hands and feet apparently noticing the chill. "I don't know. God, why is the sky so dark?"

"Arimato," Sakaki said slowly, "focus on us."

"We don't want to do this." Karasuma added, glancing at Sakaki, and seeing agreement in his eyes.

Arimato raised his head to look at them. He turned his eyes first to Sakaki, then to Karasuma. Finally, he lolled his head to the side, and his eyes rested on Kenshio. "Bitch," he cried, eyes swinging back to Karasuma. "You're with her! Oh God," he screamed, guttural voice echoing in the alley, "you're with her!" He suddenly convulsed, and Sakaki felt the man's power rise up without the use of his hands, focusing on Karasuma.

Without a second thought, he fired. Almost at the same moment, Karasuma followed suit. The only sound following was the wet thump, as the man's body hit the pavement. Sakaki lowered his gun. He had found his answer: how he could justify himself? He and Karasuma had tried; the man had been mad. Then the mad-man had tried to attack Miho. Sakaki wasn't sure why he was suddenly so protective of her, why the thought of her being attacked bothered him more than his own safety. Previously, it would have been his urge to be a hero, his impulsiveness, and his readiness to jump to action on a moment's notice. But, he seriously doubted that he would have acted so quickly if the man had attacked Kenshio. ! Granted, Kenshio had a craft, which she could protect herself with more effectively than Miho. That was beside the point, though; Miho could take care of herself. He cast a sideward glance at her, frowning slightly. '_So why do I want to do it?' _he silently asked himself. '_I guess this is partnership,' _he finally thought, and sighed as Karasuma opened her phone and called Michael.

"Michael? Send in a crew." She paused, and then sighed. "Yes. He's dead, and Single-Eye got away." She put the phone away, and glanced at Sakaki. "Thank you."

He shrugged, shoving his gun in its holster, and placing his hands in his pockets. "You fired at the same time as me. I was just being careful."

"Well, I'm glad." She turned, and walked out of the alley, Sakaki following her to the entrance and leaning on the wall next to her. He was surprised that no one was outside, to question them about the noise. It should have worried him, but he didn't care; it just meant less explaining. Kenshio walked out, going straight to her car. She paused only to nod to the two of them, and then got in, and drove away. Something in the way she carried herself suggested that she was weary, as if she had suddenly assumed a large burden.

Sakaki looked after her car, incredulously. "There was something very strange about that."

"Well, she did use a lot of her power; and it is late," Karasuma replied, frowning at the ground.

"I meant the hunt, Miho," he said, gently. "Arimato kept attacking her, specifically, ignoring you and me, until he made a connection between us all."

She nodded. "You noticed that, too? Good." She sighed. "I was hoping it was in my imagination. It would make things easier to fathom."

He hummed his agreement.

"It's funny," Karasuma said, after a moment, as if she hadn't thought about it before. "Kenshio said that she had already confronted him, but I know that Michael got a hold of her after he called us. Unless she lives very close, wouldn't that be impossible?"

Sakaki shrugged. "Well, I wouldn't be surprised if there was something fishy going on." He smirked. "Seems like this branch attracts all the trouble."

Karasuma smiled a bit. "I guess you're right. We can't do much about SOLOMON poking around, anyway. They've done it before."

He nodded. "They were a lot better at it, last time, though," he said thoughtfully, "which bothers me."

"Think they're insulting your intelligence?" she said, voice nearly deadpan. He looked at her in surprise, and gave a short chuckle.

"That's one way to put it, I guess," he said, then settled back against the wall. "But it's also that I know SOLOMON is better than that…"

"Which means that something else is going on," she finished. He nodded, and she sighed. "I know what you mean. I had no idea about Doujima, until the day she came clean. SOLOMON spies are the best." She frowned. "If Kenshio is a spy from SOLOMON, they want us to know that they're watching."

"And if she isn't a spy from SOLOMON?" Sakaki asked. "Who else could it be?"

Her frown deepened. "I don't know. I don't know anyone brave or stupid enough to go against SOLOMON like that."

Sakaki chuckled. "Yes you do. Several, in fact, and you're included." He gave her an impish grin.

She couldn't stop a small chuckle from escaping her. "I suppose you're right." There was a short lull in the conversation, and then she shifted to look at him. "Haruto, what if she isn't with SOLOMON? What are we supposed to do?"

Sakaki shrugged, his hands stuffed in his pockets. "I don't know," he replied honestly. He paused, and his voice dropped, as if worried that someone was eavesdropping on them. "Personally, I'm starting to have trouble justifying myself. Hunting is starting to gnaw on my conscience."

He heard a heavy sigh from her, and was at first afraid that he had admitted too much, too soon. Then, he realized that it was relief, as she tipped her head to rest against the wall, staring up into the muted night sky. "Me too." She bit her lip. "I'm so…tired."

"Tired of pretending that this is the right thing to do?" Sakaki asked quietly, and she could hear that he felt the same weariness.

"How could it be?" she asked. "How can we pretend that it's right, after Robin? They said she was dangerous, that she'd lost her mind."

Sakaki was quiet for a moment. "Sometimes, I think she was the sane one."

Karasuma felt tears prickling the back of her eyes at the thought of the young craft user, who had collapsed against her shoulder in exhaustion and sadness after killing Zaizen, who had cried as she freed her people from their pain. "Yes," she said, softly, "I think you're right." She fell silent.

As they stood there, against the alley, they glanced at each other, and an unspoken understanding passed between them. Neither one would breath a word about their discomfort with hunting. Speaking of their job in such terms would put both their lives on the line, if SOLOMON ever got wind of it. They knew the extent to which they trusted one another had just been elongated, nearly infinitely.

Silence took over completely, until a low hum came to their ears, and a jet black van pulled up to the alley. They stood up, as an older man got out, nodded to them, and headed down the alleyway. Trying to forget what the man was there to do, they began to walk to their vehicles, shoes clicking on the concrete loudly in the quiet night.

* * *

"So. You were hurt?"

"Yes."

"Did they find him?"

"Yes."

The man sighed; he didn't need to ask if they had killed Arimato. "You know the reason that we failed, don't you?"

She grimaced, touching her ripped sleeve. "Yes. The man's head had been filled with the evil of witches; he was so frightened of the power driving him mad, that he drove himself mad."

He snorted. The lie didn't seem to convince even her. "God, you're a stubborn ass."

"How do you think I got here? By being demure?" She let her hand drop, and growled in frustration. "We should not have tried. We should have let him go, when he mentioned his fright at the other events in the neighborhood."

"Kasu, just admit it: you failed." The words hung in the air for a moment, before she answered, voice low and dangerous.

"I am Kenshio, to you. Do not speak to me as if you are a friend."

"Fine. _Kenshio_,you failed, and it was because you have a head for fear, and an eye for the delicate workings of the mind, but you do not know _emotions." _

"I know emotions just as well as you."

"Then you know only fear."

She narrowed his eyes at him, mind working around his insistence. "I know what you are trying to do."

"Good. I'd be worried if you didn't," he replied flippantly. "Are you going to take my advice?"

She was silent for a long time, hand almost involuntarily reaching up to finger her ripped sleeve and scabbed over wound. Then she sighed. "I should have left you a babbling maniac."

He grunted, knowing that this was the closest to a concession that he would have. "Good."

She turned, unlocking her car. "Only her."

"Why? They are partners, they will work better together. Surely you can see that."

She snorted. "She said, '_We_ don't want to do this,' but it was _he_ who shot first."

He shook his head, not bothering to try and hide his distaste for the woman's choice. "Very well. Eventually you will find that one will not work without the other," he said, shrugging. "It is more complicated than simply picking and choosing."

"Everything is more complicated than that. It is always more complicated," she said, with finality, and dropped from sight. The car door closed, and he watched as she drove away.

Shaking his head, he murmured, "Then why must you simplify it, and disrupt its integrity?"

The pre-dawn light provided no answer and, sighing, he turned his back on the car that made its way back into the city, walking back to the slums that were his home.

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**So? How'd you like it? Please review, and sign in when you do; it's always nice to know who ya'll are. However…I can identify with laziness, so if you want to remain anon for laze, go for it.**

**Rhiannion gets my thanks for this chapter, brave girl, betaing at three in the morning…oh wait, it's only one there. Time zones. headdesk**

**Harry's is my happy place. . **

**OK, chapter 6, version 2.0. Question marks are more important than commas. sigh quick edit sucks.**


	7. The Accomplice

**Right. Well. It's Friday night fanfic time!**

**A note before you read: This fic is entered in the mini NaNoWriMo C2, so these next few chapters may be unedited for awhile. If you are a grammar geek, please don't kill me. puppy dog eyes **

**More at the end, go read now!

* * *

**

She sat back. The report had taken less time than she had thought it would; which was a good thing, as she had been forced to wait until after everyone else had gone home that day. It was nearly eight o'clock, even Michael had retreated to his apartment on the other side of the building. It was strange to be the only one in the office. For two years, the office had never been completely empty. There had always been a young man sitting at one of the computers, earphones turned up and fingers flying. She smiled slightly as she thought about Michael. It was interesting to think back to the scared fourteen-year-old he had been when he had first come to the STN-J. At first, they had all been skeptical. After all, he was fourteen; and completely human. How in the world could he possibly be useful?

Amon had abruptly found the answer a week after Zaizen had dragged him in by the arm, roughly introducing the hunters to the newest member of the team. They had been investigating an entrepreneur who they suspected was involved in a series of strange murders, which had been passed on to the STN-J. The problem was that he hadn't seemed to set foot in the office for over three weeks, yet memos to the secretaries still showed up from beneath his door, and he still held telephone conferences from an unknown location.

Amon had mentioned that he had tapped the phone lines, but could not trace the number, nor could he review the building's security camera tapes. It was a complicated system, he had said, much better than most other commercial companies. At this news, Michael had abruptly stood up, all awkward limbs and glasses, and sat down at the computer he had already deemed as 'his', the wires coming from it had already increased by half. They had looked after Michael curiously, and then to Zaizen, who had smiled enigmatically and then continued with the briefing. Within ten minutes, the boy had come back and beckoned Amon with hand gestures and broken Japanese to his computer, which was displaying on one side a security camera feed, switching every few seconds, and on the other a phone number with an address attached. That night, they had apprehended the entrepreneur as he held a phone conference with his underlings.

It had been an impressive show of hacking skill, especially in the first week. Before, Amon had been their main source of information and computer expertise. Michael had him beat, hands down. Of course, it hardly mattered now, but it was nice to remember the briefly stunned look on Amon's face as a fourteen-year-old American boy showed him up.

As she hit the 'print' button, she looked around quickly, making sure that she was alone still, and reached over to her desk, taking a pen from the holder and setting it in front of her. While she was here, she might as well get something else useful done. Peeling off her gloves, she first set a finger on her desk. Nothing. Then she put her whole hand on it, spreading her fingers over her keyboard and now-finished report. Still nothing. She smiled. With a lot of practice, she had regained control of her craft. Every idle moment had been spent like this, though, taking off her gloves and touching first one thing, and then more, until she could control her craft again with barely a second thought. The gloves she kept on more out of habit, now.

After it had been established that she was in control, she took a hold of the pen and closed her eyes, allowing herself to scry it. It was interesting. When her powers had first awakened, she had only gotten flashes of the last significant thing to happen with something. It had grown, while she was still in training, to be longer and more detailed flashes, and then receded to short flickers as the Orbo had been put into use more and more. Now, after this spike in power, she could suddenly maintain a state of scrying for as long as she needed, she could see the mundane things as well as the significant, and, amazingly, go back at least three or four months. As she scryed the pen, she felt no one but herself for a long time. Then, suddenly, what seemed to be Kenshio's presence, like ice on her back. '_Gods, what an awful place.' _That was the only significant thought, and a series of numbers that sounded suspiciously like the office phone. Confused, she was about to poke about more in the time that Kenshio had mistakenly taken a pen from her desk, when a hand on her shoulder startled her.

She gasped and jumped, looking up to find only Sakaki who looked almost as surprised as she felt.

"Sorry," he said "should've just let you sleep."

She smiled, and shook her head, replacing the pen on her desk. "No, it's all right. I was…practicing." She frowned at her own choice of words. Surely one did not 'practice' idly with their craft? She had never 'practiced' at SOLOMON, only 'learned control' or 'studied her ability'. Well, different circumstances called for different terms.

Sakaki seemed to have the same reaction to the word as her inner self had had, cocking his head, eyes silently asking for an explanation. She fingered the pen, pensive as she answered. "Since my power grew, I've had to go back to actively teaching myself control again."

"Then why were you scrying the pen? I thought you were doing a lot better," he said, still looking confused.

She sighed. "I want to see…" she paused, thinking of how to phrase her feelings, "I want to know what I can do," she finally said and frowned down at her hands in her lap. "After losing control, and then Single-Eye's attack, I realized that I could look back a lot farther than I could while training. I need to test that," she smirked, "I guess I'm tired of surprising myself."

Sakaki sat down at his desk and smiled at her, "I can understand," he said, and, narrowing his eyes in concentration, lifted the pen from her fingers telekinetically, letting it rest in the crook of his ear. He grinned at Karasuma's floored look. "I've been practicing too, you see."

She raised her eyebrows. "That was impressive dexterity," she said, and cocked her head, "I often forget you're a witch, too. You don't use your power very often."

He shrugged, turning to his desk and rummaging around in the top drawer. "There's rarely a need. Telekinetics aren't anything special, unless you need to throw stuff at people; and when you've got a gun, what's the use?" He smirked, a sarcastic note entering his voice, "I was sent to the STN-J to get experience with my powers on hunts. Ironic, huh?"

She nodded, a tiny smile alighting on her lips. "Have they grown?" She asked as he straightened, a small leather wallet in his hand.

He nodded. "Yes. I would have been able to take the pen from you, before I came here, but never could have done this." He pointed to the pen, still behind his ear.

Karasuma nodded, and reached out a hand to retrieve her gloves. She caught Sakaki's sideward glance, and smiled. "I don't know why I still wear them," she said as she pulled them towards her, "I guess I'm still nervous."

He shrugged. "Old habits die hard," he said, "I'm just glad to know you don't need them as much."

She paused, glancing at him. He gave her an encouraging smile, and she smiled back; it was nice to have someone besides herself looking out for her. "Yes. So am I." she said, meeting his gaze. The odd feeling of time pausing welled up again; the intimacy of the moment reaffirming to them both that their trust was well placed in one another.

"Ms. Karasuma?" The voice startled them both, their heads snapping to the source of the question. Kenshio stood just inside the door of the office, eyes darting between the two of them; as if there hadn't been a meter between them when she'd walked in.

Sakaki wondered what the replacement thought of the situation she had walked in on. Of course, even he couldn't make heads or tails of the situation she had walked in on, so the thought was completely pointless. What the hell _had_ she walked in on? For a moment, he tried to describe it, justify it…but the complete idea eluded him. He was no simpleton; he knew for a fact that he and Karasuma were developing a relationship that was far beyond co-workers, but who could blame either of them? The last few months had been complete hell; it was good to have someone to talk to. Someone who could have an inkling of what you'd been through; what you were going through. It occurred to him that perhaps hunters were subject to the same taboos as regular folks; working relationships were meant to _remain _purely working relationships. Quite frankly, though, he didn't give a damn at this point. It was a little late to be worrying about something as trivial as social taboos.

Kenshio had stepped into the office further, putting down her purse and smoothing her coat. If Sakaki hadn't known better, he would have sworn she looked _nervous. _And since when had she used an honorific like 'Ms'? She had always simply called them by their family names; nothing more, nothing less; in a clipped tone that suggested she was a part of the military.

Oblivious to Sakaki's thoughts, Kenshio looked up. "I'm having car trouble," she said finally, voice clipped, "Could I have a ride to the shop?"

Confused, Karasuma glanced at Sakaki before replying. "You can call a tow truck from here, if you'd like," she said, "I might be awhile yet."

The woman shook her head. "No, it's better to wait. I know someone at a place by my apartment; he'll drive me back here and fix it; but the phone's been busy."

Sakaki narrowed his eyes at his desk. He had a tendency to lean towards not trusting Kenshio; and after he and Karasuma had agreed she was probably a spy of some sort, the idea of letting Miho take her home by herself was distasteful, to say the least. He still remembered the wash of dread as they had all realized Karasuma had been left alone in the office the night he had been attacked. Not repeating the experience was one of the tops on his priority list. "If you want," he said, "I can take you by now." He held up his helmet, "I'm leaving now, just forgot my wallet."

Kenshio eyed him with a hint of distaste in her gaze. There was something else too; it looked as if she were trying to formulate an excuse to be alone with Miho. But then it was gone. Still, he remained unconvinced as she said, "I am sorry, but I cannot stand motorcycles," she said bluntly.

Sakaki conceded. He could give her the same argument he gave everyone that insisted his bike was a death trap; but he sensed it would fall on deaf ears. "Fine then," he said, having to work very hard to keep an annoyed edge from his voice. He glanced pointedly at Karasuma, and said, "You have my number if you need me." He made the statement sound as if it were to Kenshio, but knew that Karasuma understood it was directed at her when she nodded discreetly. Kenshio also nodded.

"I do. Good night."

Sakaki allowed himself one last concerned glance at his partner, sitting in her chair with eyes narrowed in concentration, and then punched the elevator call button, throwing a muttered "you too," over his shoulder as it opened. His last image of the office was Karasuma, turning back to the report on her desk with mock intensity. Her ankles were linked under the desk, knees at an angle, and she sat up straight. She stared down at her desk calmly, one hand curled around a pen, but it did not move. For that moment as the door closed, she was a still-life. The image stayed with him for much of the night.

* * *

Miho had stalled as long as she could; going over the hard copy of the report and ruthlessly editing it; going onto the computer and correcting everything, and reprinting it. Finally, there was nothing more she could do, and as deep golden light poured into the office, she turned off her computer and stood.

"Well," she said, "I'm ready."

Kenshio stood silently, nodding. She looked distracted for some reason, and Karasuma wondered again whether she was walking into a trap. She didn't like the thought; having already had the experience. At least this time, it couldn't be as bad. Kenshio wasn't torturing innocents using those under her. She wasn't … Karasuma clenched her jaw, forcing the thoughts from her mind. The elevator took them down to the garage, and she silently unlocked the doors and climbed behind the wheel. Stiffly, Kenshio sat down in the passenger's side.

"Which way?" Karasuma asked as she pulled from the lot. Kenshio gave her directions precisely, voice firm but quiet, leading them downtown. Karasuma frowned as she drove. Hadn't she decided that Kenshio lived out of town more? Yes; otherwise she would have never been able to make it to the hunt so quickly the night before. She supposed the replacement could have been out; but she'd had her weapons, and besides, the woman didn't strike her as the clubbing type. Yes, something was definitely wrong.

Soon though, they pulled up to a battered looking car-repair place. Kenshio instructed her to pull in the back, and got out of the car, going into the shop. Karasuma sat back, perplexed. She had half expected to be led into a complex maze of some sort, then be attacked from the side and wake up in a small white room; or something like that. Instead, she watched Kenshio through the window, giving her a glance and then walking in to a back room.

Shrugging, Karasuma shifted and started to back out, but Kenshio reappeared outside, waving for her to stop. She did so, and rolled down the window.

"I'm sorry, did you want me to wait?" she asked.

Kenshio shook her head, "It's not that. I noticed that your tire is flat."

Karasuma tried to twist to see where the woman was pointing, but couldn't see. Sighing, she pressed the car into park and unclipped her seatbelt. If Kenshio was right, she was going to have a hell of a time getting home. _This is a very convenient time for you to get a flat, _her mind said as her hand gripped the door handle. She paused for just a moment, and then, ignoring her better judgment, she stepped out to get a better look at the tire in question.

The attack was swift and fierce. As she felt her legs swept from beneath her, she couldn't say that she was surprised. From the moment Kenshio had stepped into the office that night, she had known _something _was going to happen. _Oldest trick in the book, _she thought sardonically as she hit the ground. Kenshio leaned over, taking something – it looked like a cloth - from her pocket, and Karasuma suddenly felt anger well up inside her. The woman was going to try and chloroform her! _There's no way in hell I'm going to go down without a fight, _she heard herself think, and suddenly, her hunter training took over. One leg shot up, placing a sharp kick to the base of Kenshio's spine. The woman obviously hadn't been expecting a fight, because she gasped and fell forward. Karasuma caught her and flipped their positions; expertly pressing the other woman against the asphalt, pinning legs with legs and arms with hands.

For a moment, they stayed like that, both breathing hard. Kenshio did not struggle, and Karasuma considered scrying her; to see just what had been behind that attack, but then Kenshio spoke. "I didn't think you'd be such a good fighter," she said.

"I've been a hunter since I was sixteen. You knew that."

"You had the Orbo for most of it."

"That didn't matter then, and it doesn't matter now."

"Your powers have gotten out of hand because of it." Kenshio seemed to think she was hurting her with the words, but Karasuma could only muster up a mild disgust for the woman underneath her.

"They're back in hand. Why did you attack me like that?"

Kenshio didn't answer her question, instead saying, "Tell me, do you enjoy killing witches?"

She nearly retched at the question. What kind of monster _enjoyed _killing? How could she ask such a thing? "What do you mean?" she asked, voice soft.

"Killing them. You've been doing it for so long. Why do you hunt, even after you've seen the hope of witches? Don't you have a shred of remorse, killing your own kin?"

Silence. What was this replacement doing? How could she describe what she went through, every time she pulled the trigger? What she had been through that night, when Zaizen had taken her to the factory and told her that she was the only one he could trust, that Amon had betrayed them, that had changed her entire outlook on hunting. When he had dripped untruths into her ear, spinning fragile lies about Robin's madness around her. She had sat in that glass enclosed office, listening to the sugar-spun deceit and slowly realized that her loyalties could no longer remain with the man she had served under for so long. Even before the undercover team had infiltrated the factory, the untruths had evaporated, the lies had shattered, and the deceit had melted; she had known Zaizen was wrong. It had taken another three months of pain to realize that, perhaps, not only was Zaizen wrong, but SOLOMON was, as well. She found that she couldn't answer.

"I thought so," Kenshio said, and fixed the younger woman with a commanding look. "Let me up."

"Why should I?"

"Because I can tell you now."

Karasuma didn't move. "I'm tired of these word games. Who are you and what are you doing?"

"Let me up and I'll tell you."

She hesitated for a moment, closing her eyes and reaching out with her mind to try to find a lie. Though it meant little, she did not find one. Finally, she rocked back, drawing her gun and training it on Kenshio at the same time. "All right." She said, gun following the replacement as she sat up, "Tell me."

Kenshio took a moment to settle herself, taking no notice of the gun barrel following her every movement. "I am a part of a witch underground movement." She stated bluntly, "I came to Japan to awaken witches to their true power, and teach them control. I infiltrated SOLOMON to gain a position as a hunter and begin aggressive action." She gazed evenly at a slightly stunned Miho. "The awakenings across the city have been because of me and my assistant. Most of the witches we have awakened are still leading normal lives; practicing control and remaining themselves."

Karasuma took a moment to wrap her mind around this. When she had finally gotten over the shock of finding that someone had actually succeeded in infiltrating SOLOMON, her brain suddenly clicked into place. "Single-eye," she said, lowering her gun and holstering it again, "You're working with Single-Eye."

"Yes," Kenshio said, "I am."

"He makes them fear, and it awakens their powers, and somehow, you bring them back." Karasuma paused, remembering the visions within the ball that she had caught. "How?"

"Human contact lessens the fear. Touch, shared emotions and warmth. You have found that out yourself, he says." Kenshio stood, and continued, frowning. "And that is part of the reason that I am telling you this. There are things that my very nature makes difficult; and calming fears is one of them."

Karasuma glanced at Kenshio as she also stood, leaning against the car. She suddenly wondered what it had taken for the woman to admit that she could not perform such a vital task in her own movement. From what little she knew of Kenshio, Miho gathered that she was a very proud woman. "You want help." She said, "My craft allows me to do things that you can't."

"Don't be fooled." Kenshio said darkly, "I could do them fine without you. You simply can do it more naturally."

Miho narrowed her eyes. "Then why are you doing this at all? Why not leave me in the dark? It'd be safer, wouldn't it?"

"Because I would not let her," a voice said from the corner of the street, "I was tired of losing or almost losing people because of her stubbornness."

Karasuma whirled, drawing her gun even though she knew who it was. "Single-Eye."

He nodded to her, face serious. Kenshio glared at him. "I told you to stay out of this until she gave her answer."

Single-Eye gave Kenshio one look of venom, and then turned to Karasuma. "I refuse to let you make her take on this job until you understand why I told you to tell her, and until she understands." His face twisted, "I did not understand completely until it was too late."

"You had little choice." Kenshio said, "You are still indebt to mefor driving the madness from you." She paused, glancing at Karasuma, "_she _has little choice," she said quietly, "If she does not –"

"Madness is mind over matter," Single-Eye interrupted matter-of-factly. "The only thing you did was tell me that I had the choice to be sane again."

"It was more of a chance than they gave you." Kenshio hissed, glancing once at Karasuma, who gazed back evenly.

Single-Eye glanced at Karasuma once, and shrugged. "They had orders. I can understand that. Witches are dangerous, when they're mad."

Karasuma looked at the man, pole-axed. "You mean you don't resent the STN-J for hunting witches?"

"He is being foolish." Kenshio said, "Of course he does."

"Quiet, Kasu, and let me speak," Single-Eye said. Miho's eyebrows lifted in surprise, not only at the use of her given name, but at the commanding tone of his voice. It seemed that Single-Eye had recovered his sanity and become a level-headed agent at the same time. She became more and more impressed as he continued, "Before the Eve came to Japan, the STN-J hunted without standards, simply going down a list of people with witch's blood," he nodded towards Kenshio, "She did research before coming." He took a breath as Kenshio's face contorted angrily. The spy had apparently wanted Miho as much in the dark as possible, but Single-Eye continued. "However, after the collapse of the building, the agenda changed slightly. Now, only those witches that have harmed others are hunted and killed, is that right?"

Karasuma nodded mutely, impressed.

"Even so, it is hard, no?"

"Yes," she said quietly, "It is."

Single-Eye smiled. "I knew it."

Kenshio glared. "You take her word too easily," she growled, and looked at Miho, "you shot Arimato effortlessly enough."

"He was going to kill me. I had no choice," she said.

"Yes, but you still-" Kenshio started, but Single-Eye interrupted.

"Tell me," he said, "I heard rumors after the main building was destroyed that they tried to make you hunt the Eve. Is that true?"

She looked down. "Yes," she said. "The hunter originally assigned to hunt her turned sides, and she killed others sent for her."

Kenshio looked confused as Single-Eye continued. "I also heard that you refused; saving both the Eve and her ward."

Karasuma clenched her fists, remembering the anguish of having to listen to Zaizen for all of that time, nearly retching on the lies he was trying to stuff down her throat. "Yes. That is also true. They were wrong about her, and I knew that."

There was silence for a moment, and Karasuma did not look up. She missed Kenshio's stunned look, and Single-Eye's proud face. All she could think of was Amon and Robin, their stunned looks of gratefulness as she'd cried for the tape to continue, and told Zaizen the truth. "You see?" Single-Eye finally said, "She can be trusted."

Kenshio seethed, her fists balled at her sides. "You mean the fact that this girl has been hunting since she was sixteen doesn't bother you? Have you forgotten the countless lives she's taken?"

Karasuma wanted to step in and defend herself, but before she could speak, Single-Eye fixed Kenshio with his good eye and said, "You want to do things differently than _them, _don't you? Have you ever heard what the hunters say as they deliver the killing blow?"

Kenshio's face clearly showed that she knew. Karasuma remembered the words that many of SOLOMON's top hunters, sometimes including Robin, had uttered as their victims died.

"Yes, you know," Single-Eye said, "_You will not be forgiven." _He paused, and then quietly said, "If she can be trusted, then she can atone, and she _can_ be forgiven."

Kenshio's face returned to neutral, showing no sign of the anger she had once held, giving no hint that she knew she had just lost this war of words. "Fine," she said, "We needed her anyhow." She pressed a piece of paper into Karasuma's hand and turned, saying, "Call this number from a pay phone. We will meet later, and I will tell you more then."

She walked away, taking out keys and pressing the unlock button on a pad. The next street over, a car flashed and unlocked, and she got intoit. Single-Eye turned and began to walk away, but as he went, Karasuma cried "Wait!"

He turned, giving her a curious look. "I'd think you'd want to be rid of me as fast as possible," he said blandly.

She did not reply to the statement, not wanting to let him know how true it was. He was obviously different; but she couldn't quite forget the mad man they'd hunted all those months ago. "What you said, about the factory," she said haltingly, "how did you hear that? No one that was in the room when I ... when I turned, survived the collapse. How did you hear that?"

Single-eye said nothing, only smiled enigmatically and shook his head. Then he ambled off into the alley, leaving Karasuma with her car at the dilapidated repair shop. She sagged against the door, staring upwards into the moonlit sky. She should have been worrying about what she had just gotten into; an underground witches movement, a true betrayal of SOLOMON. But all she could think of was how Single-Eye had known that she had refused to hunt Robin, and made her refusal clear. And how had he known that Amon had named himself Robin's ward? The assistant had died in the collapse, Robin had killed Zaizen. She had never told anyone exactly what had transpired in the room. That meant…

She took a breath, and let it out slowly, then turned to her car, swinging herself inside and turning the key in the ignition. It was nine-thirty. She needed to get home, get a glass of water and think over what had just happened. Unless she was sorely mistaken, her life had just taken a very dangerous turn.

* * *

**And BOOM, the plot takes off like a shot. . **

**Thanks goes to Harry's and my Beta, Rhiannion, of whom I am currently jealous. Shakespeare in Oregon. :shakes head:**


	8. But I Can't Tell You

**Again, this is part of the Mini NaNoWriMo, and so it is currently unbetaed. Don't shoot me.

* * *

**

The scene of the WacDonalds at noon on a Thursday was, to say the least, hairy. As Karasuma dodged a girl that looked like she was in seventh grade, she spotted Kenshio sitting with what looked suspiciously like a chocolate shake and fries. This was confirmed when Karasuma slid into the bench across from the spy. Personally, Karasuma wasn't fond of WacDonalds, something about it just rubbed her the wrong way. She would have thought that Kenshio felt much the same way about the fast food joint, and had to struggle to keep a straight face as the woman delicately dipped a French fry into the shake and ate it. It seemed very out of character for Kenshio. Though, she thought, she had never really known Kenshio's character very well. This could be _normal_.

"It is loud, but that is part of why it is good," Kenshio stated without warning. "And if someone wonders, we can say that our children are here."

Karasuma nodded and folded her hands around each other, wishing she had some sort of drink to nurse. Wacdonalds didn't carry the kind of drink she really wanted, though, and Kenshio was speaking.

"We call them hunts," she said, "simply because that is the best word for them. Also because if anyone from SOLOMON hears us speaking of them, they will hopefully assume that we are talking about their witch-killings." She selected a fry and ate it, without dipping it in the shake.

Karasuma felt a little tinge of disbelief at seeing her co-worker with a limp fry in her mouth, but quickly pushed it aside to ask, "How do you do it? If I'm going to be part of this, I need to know, don't I?"

Kenshio's eyes narrowed to focus on the table directly in front of her. She spoke with great concentration, each word seeming to be carefully chosen and crafted within a sentence. It was if the woman were trying to say as little possible while still answering the question to Karasuma's satisfaction. "It is a technique that was discovered by accident. The power that witches have is connected. When _he_ uses his craft, he awakens their power through their fear. Once we see a manifestation of the craft, we use this technique."

Karasuma resisted the urge to take Kenshio by the shoulders and shake her when she took another french-fry and slowly ate it. Kenshio had very obviously not wanted her in on this, and was going to take her time in saying everything; she would have to be patient.

After the fry, she continued. "It is…complicated, but the core of it is using the control of your power to help them control theirs. It requires skin contact and the knowledge of what you are doing, but it is mostly instinctual."

"So," Karasuma said, slightly disbelieving, "You just touch them and their power comes under control?"

"No. You must touch them with the intent of helping their control and you must have your own store of control. It does not work to simply reach out and touch them." She sighed, looking at the rest of her meal with a frown. "You will learn without difficulty once you see me and experience it yourself." She took a small card out of her pocket with an address on it. "We meet here before every hunt. Memorize that and burn it. I will never tell you the location of hunts before we meet; the less you know the better."

Karasuma nodded and took the card, glancing at it before shoving it in her pocket. "There's something I don't understand." Kenshio just looked at her, as if giving her permission to continue. For the first time in nearly five years, Karasuma actually felt nineteen. The older woman's way of dealing with her always seemed to have a hint of condescension. It made her feel uncomfortably young. Still, she needed to work with this woman, and to do that, she couldn't let herself give in to the superiority complex that Kenshio seemed to have. "If it's so simple, then why did Arimato go mad like he did? What went wrong?"

Kenshio's face snapped from cool curiosity to a frown. When she answered, her voice was clipped and some-what angry. "That was a culmination of many things. The first was a simple misbalance of power. The ones that can use this technique must not only have control, but must have a lot of power to keep under control. It is simple enough to understand; if you control a small amount of power, and the other person a large amount, your control will do little to help them. You may bring the power to be less dangerous, but it will still be more power than either of you is accustomed to, and will break free." She frowned deeper. "He was also taught to hate witches. It may not seem to make a difference, but it does. He would not let me near him to help, and then he would not let me into his mind; choosing instead to drown in his own sorrows and fears."

Karasuma mulled over this for a moment, and then said, "How many? How many have you lost?"

Kenshio closed her eyes and spoke as if from a list within her mind. "Only two others have been lost to the initial loss of control. Thirteen have lost control later; going mad with the power." Her face soured angrily. "They were often hunted unwittingly by the STN-J, though I suspect one killed herself. Twenty have gone missing and were not hunted by the STN-J. More than seventy are still living in Tokyo normally."

"Seventy!" Karasuma half whispered; floored.

Kenshio nodded. "Seventy. All living normal lives, helping each other when they need it. There is a network set up; a support group for them when they need help with training or control."

"A coven." Karasuma said softly.

"You could call it that; but do not. SOLOMON would become suspicious if they ever heard you."

Karasuma took a deep breath; trying to incorporate all of the information she had just been given. It didn't seem possible. More than seventy witches, living normally and happily; in Tokyo, no less! But how had Kenshio done it? She had only been in Japan for three months now, and she had awakened a total of over a hundred witches! She counted in her mind; three months, about thirty days to a month, that was more than one a night. When she figured in the time it had taken to track and train Single-Eye, it was at least two every day. Was that even possible? "How?" she asked aloud, "Do you do more than one hunt a night?"

Kenshio shrugged. "Barring problems, each hunt takes an hour or so. We can do as many as four."

It still didn't seem possible, but the math worked out. Still, with at least two weeks off in the beginning, possibly more, it just didn't seem right. Kenshio, apparently thinking the conversation over, stood, wrapping her fries in the wrapper of a sandwich that Karasuma hadn't seen. Suddenly, a solution occurred to her, as crazy as it seemed.

"Wait." She said as Kenshio turned. The woman turned back around and regarded her coolly. "Are you acting alone?" Karasuma asked.

Kenshio looked at her for what seemed like forever before replying "No, I have _him_, and now you, with me."

Karasuma struggled to rephrase the question so that the spy couldn't dance around it. "I mean, is this part of something outside of Japan? Something…bigger?"

"I don't know what you mean," Kenshio said, still straight-faced.

"Are you acting alone, or is there an…organization that is helping direct you? It's just, you've done so much in so little time, and the information must have come…"

Kenshio didn't let her finish, cutting her off with, "Why do you want to know?"

Karasuma thought back to the factory, listening to Toudo about Robin. She was the hope of witches, named for the king of witches. They had never found her or Amon's body in the wreckage. She was reluctant to be specific though, in the event that she was wrong, or heard something that she didn't want to. "I thought I might know…"

"No." Kenshio cut her off again, "There is no organization. I am acting alone."

Karasuma found herself feeling half disappointed. But what would she have done if Kenshio had not been acting alone? If Robin was alive, she didn't want to know about it; it would be a danger to both of them. Still, after Single-Eye had known about her complete betrayal of Zaizen and Amon's promise, and then Kenshio's incredibly fast organization and action, she was beginning to suspect that the young witch and perhaps even her ward had survived the collapse after all. "Oh," was all she could manage.

Kenshio gave her a severe look, "I should not have to say this, but I will; tell no one of this. Especially your partner."

Karasuma was taken aback. It did not surprise her that Kenshio had told her to keep silent, any sane person would do that, but that she had singled out Sakaki… "I won't... but why didn't you tell him as well?" The question was on her lips before she really had thought about it. It was an obvious question; Sakaki was her equal in hunting, at least, and only a step below her in craft power, possibly an equal after the lifting of the Orbo's influence. So why had she chosen to ignore him?

Kenshio answered with a heavy hint of disdain. "I do not trust him."

"And you trust me?" Karasuma didn't think that the woman trusted her at all, a feeling that was, for the most part, mutual.

"No," Kenshio said, affirming her suspicions, "but he has given me no reason to think that he would be sympathetic to our cause."

"I don't understand," Karasuma said, "I don't remember either of us doing anything that would redeem or damn us."

The replacement sat again, saying, "When you hunted Arimato, you said that you did not want to shoot him, and you tried to speak to him before doing anything else. But your partner shot him first."

"He was protecting me," Karasuma said, "I don't see how that proves his guilt."

Kenshio shrugged, "It shows his willingness to kill. It is proof enough for me."

Karasuma was beginning to see what Single-Eye had been up against when he had convinced Kenshio to include her. "You tried to tell me that I had shot him with that same ease. Why didn't that damn me as well?"

Kenshio frowned. "I told you, you specifically said that you didn't want to shoot him."

"And? He agreed with me."

"It doesn't matter, anyway," Kenshio said with a glare, obviously wanting to drop the subject, "I was bluffing to make you angry, angry people are easier to manipulate to the truth."

Karasuma sighed, seeing that it was fruitless. She had tried, anyway. Kenshio rose, mouth set in a hard line as if she felt she had spoken too much. Karasuma had one more question though, "What would you have done…if I had said no? If I had sworn to secrecy, but didn't want to get involved?"

Kenshio looked over her shoulder at the younger woman, mouth still set, and eyes as cold as ever. Karasuma had to resist a shiver as she said, "I probably would have killed you anyway. You are a good fighter, but I would have won in the end." Without another word, Kenshio turned and walked away, easily disappearing into the crowd of teenagers happily munching on fries and soft drinks. Karasuma stared after her for a moment, not seeing too much, and then got up to get ready, trying not to think about Kenshio's words. She would be hunting a little differently that night.

* * *

A week later, Karasuma had burned the paper that the meeting place had been on. She had memorized it thoroughly, having participated in five hunts since that day at WacDonalds. She rather suspected that Kenshio and Single-Eye had carried on without her some nights; continuing to awaken people and usher them into the coven.

It really was a coven, she mused as she leaned against a light pole. The awakened witches, as well as some that had awakened on their own, used each other for power and support. New traveled fast between networks; word that Kenshio had taken on another 'hunter' had traveled to half the people before Karasuma herself had even participated in a hunt.

What amazed her most about it, besides how easily she had slipped into this double life, was Kenshio's ability to handle the job. She was the leader of every facet of witches on the island. Karasuma didn't know how she did it. From what little she could gather, Kenshio's phone number was given to all of the witches; and if an emergency came up, they could call her. If she was busy, which she often was, she would call someone else that she knew could handle it to go. It was rare that she was able to go herself, but Karasuma had been along with her once when she had.

The call had been very fast, Karasuma at first thought that it was Michael, but Kenshio was nodding…

"Yes. We will be there soon. Hold on, Ayuki."

"Who was that?" Karasuma asked, confused.

Kenshio put the phone in her pocket and gave her a long look. Then the woman glanced at Single-Eye. "You. I have to take care of this, and you are not welcome." Karasuma glanced at Single-Eye, who rolled his good eye and nodded.

"Of course, of course," he said, and, glancing at Karasuma, said "you are taking her, though, right?"

"Don't be ridiculous." Kenshio snapped, "She is part of this now, and needs to know the other aspects of this job."

"I don't understand." Karasuma said, "What's going on?"

Kenshio motioned for Karasuma to follow her, and they made their way to her car as she explained. "In emergency situations, they have my phone number. I do not like to leave them completely to themselves."

Shocked, Karasuma climbed into the car without complaint. It was a short drive to their destination, and when they pulled up in front of a middle income house, there was a man waiting outside. He opened the gate, saying, "Thank you for coming; I was just so worried for her, she…"

"Hush," Kenshio said gently, "Where is she?"

The man clamped his mouth shut and motioned for them to follow. The house was well decorated and homey, Karasuma felt a bit out of place with her gun and leather duster jacket. She rather thought Kenshio would look just as out of place, but in true spy form, she had somehow adapted to fit right in. The house was fairly peaceful, and Karasuma was about to ask why they were here when they walked into the kitchen. A woman dressed in nothing more than a sheet was curled up in the corner, her body tense as a coiled wire. She eyed the new comers with a certain degree of fear, and then shrunk back into the sheet. "No!" She said, voice muffled, "I don't want to hear any more!"

"Ayuki," Kenshio said steadily, studying the situation, "Tell me exactly what happened."

"We were…um…we were…," He blushed and looked down, his hands clenched in front of him.

"Never mind explaining that in detail," Kenshio said, "I think I see." She sighed and walked out of the kitchen, grabbing Karasuma by the wrist. Ayuki stayed near the kitchen door, still blushing furiously and looking forlornly from the two women in his living room to his wife in the corner. When they were out of ear-shot, Kenshio turned and began to explain, Karasuma listening intently. "When they first awaken, they have mishaps, like anyone. Mostly they are small; they can be handled by those near by. Rumita is a very strong telepath, though."

Karasuma nodded. The technique Kenshio used had the surprising side affect of actually knowing the exact nature and power of a person's craft. It was proving to be useful, and Karasuma could think of a dozen other ways it could be used. "So can't we just help her regain control?"

"No," the older woman said, "That is only a last resort. Otherwise they are unable to help themselves. This entire operation rests on their ability to control and patrol themselves; they must be able to carry on without me."

Karasuma stood, shocked, as Kenshio turned back to the kitchen. Kenshio's words drove home exactly how tentative her life was, and how disposable it seemed to be. A bloom of respect opened for the woman who was now kneeling before the telepath in the kitchen.

"Rumita," Kenshio said softly, "Rumita, can you hear me?"

"Yes," there was a quiet sob, "Yes, inside and out. And Ayuki, and the empath…"

_Me, _Karasuma realized, _she can hear me?_

"Yes I can, Karasuma Miho, I can hear you…" there was a squeak, "But I don't want to! Please, I just want to go back to ignorance!"

Karasuma's breath hitched, her heart bleeding for the other woman. She knew that feeling, knew it all too well. Kenshio did not respond, but said, "Rumita, listen to me. You can get control. Just block us out. Build your defenses up again. Try, now."

Rumita's eyes closed slowly, and she breathed steadily. For just a moment, Karasuma thought she may have calmed enough to bring herself back, but then she opened her eyes again, whimpering. "I can't…" she whispered, "Gods, I can't, I'm so scared…there's so much…"

"Hush, Rumita, calm down. You can do this; your fear is only hindering you. Let go of it and try again."

As Rumita tried to breathe again, Karasuma suddenly realized what was wrong with Kenshio's approach. If Rumita could hear them all, then she was working against all of their thoughts at once. That was three separate walls to build. Kenshio was making it harder than it really was, by forcing her to build one large wall, rather than three small but precise ones. When Rumita opened her eyes again, tears flowing, Karasuma stepped forward and touched Kenshio on the shoulder. "Let me try," she said. Kenshio at first looked like she was going to refuse, but gave in and stood. Taking a breath, Karasuma knelt in front of Rumita and smiled.

"Rumita, I have a power a lot like yours," she said quietly, and thought as hard as she could about her craft, trying to distract Rumita.

"Empath," she murmured, "you touch things, and they speak to you."

"Yes." Karasuma said, "That's right. Focus on me, as hard as you can. Just listen to me, and you can start to build your walls again."

"Listen to you?"

"Just let them fade away. I'll drown them out eventually, and then you can start to block me."

Karasuma felt a shift in the psychic atmosphere, and knew that Rumita was listening to her. And so she gave her something to hear, shoving as much as she could think of at the telepath; her daily life, experiences with this new form of hunting, the people she worked with; as much as she could think of. Rumita ate it up, the thoughts falling into her and drowning out everything else. She didn't know how long it took, but Rumita's breathing became easier, and she slowed her thoughts to match. Another moment, and Rumita's eyes opened. They looked clearer than they had when Karasuma had seen them when she had started talking. A breath later, Rumita blinked and shifted in place.

"I…I'm doing it. I don't hear everything."

Karasuma smiled. "Good. Will you be all right?"

There was a rustle, and Rumita stood up, offering a hand to Karasuma, who took it and rose with the other woman's help. "Yes…actually." She looked almost surprised. "I was so scared, but concentrating on you made it easier." She looked up at Karasuma again, face pitying. "You've got a lot on your mind."

Karasuma resisted the urge to blush; not because there was anything she had particularly wanted to keep hidden, but because it was the first time she had actually let anyone really see everything that was on her mind. Recently, the only person that had seen even a portion of it was Sakaki.

"That thought was particularly prevalent," Rumita commented airily, now smiling faintly. Kenshio and Ayuki looked from Rumita to Karasuma questioningly, but Rumita only shook her head enigmatically, and Karasuma frowned.

"We should go," Kenshio said. Karasuma turned, wondering if using that particular method had been wise.

She still wondered that, along with wondering how much of the telepath's timing had been coincidental, and how much had really been commenting on the direction of her thoughts. She shifted against the light pole, frowning to herself. It still bothered her that she couldn't tell Sakaki exactly what she was doing with her nights nowadays. He _had _been on her mind lately; and much as she tried, he didn't seem to go away. After all they had been through; she was keeping this from him.

It wouldn't have been so bad, perhaps, if Kenshio had trusted her more. But the woman felt the need to monitor her; lurking in the backs of rooms when all she wanted to do was talk to Haruto about an investigation. The knowledge kept her on edge; and she knew he noticed. He hadn't said anything, though, something for which she was most grateful. She was a good actress, but as well as her partner knew her, he would probably see through any lie she crafted.

Heaving a sigh, she gently prodded her thoughts away from Haruto; looking around again for Kenshio and Single-Eye. A breeze drew chilled fingers against the back of her neck, and she smelled olives. Turning to face the breeze, she found Single-Eye behind her, Kenshio beside him. Kenshio nodded to her, and they set off walking without a word. Sometimes they walked to the hunt, sometimes they drove. It depended on where it was and how much risk Kenshio thought was involved.

Three blocks later, they stopped in front of a small home. Karasuma glanced over at Kenshio to make sure it was the right place. The woman nodded to her; face almost mischevious, "You will draw her out. Her name is Chiazaki Kaneme."

Karasuma nearly asked if Kenshio was kidding before remembering who she was talking to. Kenshio did not joke, or if she did, Karasuma had yet to see it. And so, squaring her shoulders, she strode to the front door and knocked twice. A woman in her late twenties answered, peeking around the door and opening it the rest of the way when she saw Karasuma.

"Can I help you?" The question was quiet but firm.

"I'm sorry to bother you so late," Karasuma said, making sure to sound apologetic, "But I just hit an animal, and this was the nearest house, and I was thinking that maybe it was a pet or something…"

"What kind?" The woman asked immediately. Karasuma felt a tinge of guilt for making the woman worry about a pet when she should have been worrying for herself, but silently promised that she would apologize later for the bluff.

"It's a dog; could you come take a look? If it isn't yours, maybe you could tell me who to talk to…"

Without seeming to have a second thought, the woman stepped outside. Karasuma was surprised at how easy it had seemed as she strode outside her gate with purpose, glancing to her right, and then her left. "Where?" she asked, looking around, "I don't see a car."

"It's to your right," Karasuma said from a few steps behind her, "I parked in the driveway, I hope you don't mind."

"No, no, it's just…" She trailed off. Karasuma didn't bother to ask what the matter was. The woman had turned and walked to her right a bit, into the shadows of the driveway. The smell of olives drifted to her nose. Kenshio appeared beside her and took the woman's hand, dragging her further into the darkness, and Karasuma followed. Single-Eye was immersed in a starting contest with the woman. Her irises had narrowed to pinpoints; Karasuma could hear her breath coming in shallow gasps. She closed her eyes; but knew all too well how it went. Single-Eye's power took over a person's mind, temporarily forcing all manner of sanity from the mind. She hated to watch, it was bad enough that her craft let her feel the tangible fear that Single-Eye forced on people; she didn't have to see how it affected them, too.

There was a low thump, and Karasuma knew that Kaneme had fallen to the ground. There were very few people that actually stayed standing, she had found; most lost balance. At first, she had been surprised at how little noise was made. When she had asked, though, Single-Eye had explained that when he regained sanity, he had also learned to control the fear he wielded as a weapon. The man knew everything about fear; how much was enough to make someone uncomfortable, nervous, scream, and even too scared to utter a sound. It was only after he cut the fear off that anyone made noise.

Tension was building in the alley; the kind of psychic tension that was a prelude to the awakening itself. It was thick and smooth, like a slimy bubble. The pressure grew and grew; making it almost hard to breath. Finally, as Karasuma felt that she could reach out and slice the tension with only the force of her mind, it snapped.

This was the critical point; where everything happened. Single-Eye cut the connection his power had made with Kaneme, backing quickly away to give Kenshio and Karasuma room to work. Karasuma had opened her eyes with the release of pressure, and now saw the first manifestations of the craft. Above Kaneme's head, a flame flickered and danced, small and delicate. Karasuma knew it wouldn't stay that way for long though, and moved forward with Kenshio. Kenshio reached the woman first, leaning down to take Kaneme's bare hand in her's. She never got the chance to make contact though, forced to drop and roll as a lick of flame suddenly appeared near her eye. Suddenly, the entire alley erupted into an inferno.

Karasuma lost her breath, frozen to the spot in the fire. It eerily reminded her of those final moments in the factory, before she lost track of Robin and Amon in the debris. She didn't have time to contemplate it though, because she was suddenly yanked bodily to the cement, Kenshio's voice snarling "Get down! Do you want to be burnt?" Without waiting for an answer, she said, "I am not powerful enough for this; you have more raw power than I do; go."

Karasuma stared for a moment. They had known from the start that Karasuma was more powerful; even though her craft did not manifest to give that impression. Still, hearing Kenshio admit it like that was almost disturbing. It also put her in the position of pulling this woman's power in, which in itself was frightening.

But she didn't have a choice. It was either that or let this woman go mad. She wasn't about to do that. Steeling herself, she began to crawl to the center of the inferno, hugging the ground as closely as she could. It was hot. She could smell burning leaves, fabric, and what she thought was a hint of flesh. Her stomach turning, she swallowed and went faster. Theoretically, Kaneme could burn herself with the force of her own craft. If the woman was doing that, Karasuma didn't want to know what would happen to _her_.

The fire spots in her eyes were making it hard to see, so she closed her eyes and began to reach blindly. Suddenly, she came into contact with a shoe. It was warm, but it didn't seem to be burnt, and she looked up.

Kaneme was curled into the fetal position against the wall, watching the fire dance with wide eyes. Karasuma watched, but the woman didn't blink, only staring in fascinated horror. Taking a breath, Karasuma drew even with Kaneme, and thrust out her hand to meet with the woman's bare cheek.

Since she knew what she was looking for, the connection was instantaneous. She felt the wave of power that was drowning Kaneme and anchored herself against it. The woman's craft was very powerful; nearly even with Karasuma's own. She was certain that if they had met before the Orbo had been lifted; she would not have been any help at all. Now, though, she closed her eyes and began the process of bringing the power under control. She took each wave of power into herself, until the waves subsided. It took what felt like forever, but finally, the storm calmed, and she opened her eyes to find the alley dark again. Kaneme blinked, a tear trickling across her soot-stained cheek. "You're…so that's why…."

Karasuma blinked in return, but found herself speechless. This woman had a craft almost exactly like Robin's. It might as well have been Robin's, except for Robin's power was nearly infinite. She shook her head, trying not to think of the young craft user as Kenshio walked up behind her, asking, "What do you mean, 'so that's why?'"

Kaneme sat up and looked at Kenshio, a quiet grunt escaping her. "My brother told me about you," she said, rubbing her face and frowning at her nearly black hands. She seemed unnaturally calm about the whole situation; most people had hundreds of questions. "He said you might come for me, too, since we're twins."

Kenshio thought for a moment, and nodded, "Tamie; I remember."

"He melted a trashcan; the neighbors are still wondering what happened."

Karasuma swallowed. _Small world, _she thought, _that case is part of what got me into this._

"Did he tell you anything else?" Kenshio asked.

"He told me everything," Kenshio frowned, and Kaneme suddenly looked frightened, "If he wasn't supposed to, I'm sorry, but I'm glad he told me. He said to trust you." She looked at Karasuma thoughtfully, "Didn't mention you, though. And you're the one that helped me. Thank you."

Karasuma looked away, muttering, "It was nothing."

Kenshio spoke again, directing the attention away from Karasuma, who obviously didn't want it. "You understand that you will have to work with your powers to understand them, and learn to control them?"

Kaneme nodded, "Yes, I understand. I hear they have a section here in Tokyo that kills witches who get out of control; is that true?"

"Yes," Kenshio said, but did not elaborate. Karasuma could not stop herself from wincing at the woman's words. Hearing it said so bluntly was almost like a slap. Kenshio didn't have her guilty conscience, and continued without batting an eye, "Which means that you must keep control as best you can. There are others in this neighborhood that will help you, and your brother will too. If there is an emergency, first call them. If they cannot help, they will call me."

"But what if-" Kaneme started, but she was cut off by a phone ringing. Karasuma felt cold hand draw itself down her back. That was her phone; and only Michael called this late at night. Looking at Kenshio, she took out the phone, saying, "Someone must have called the police."

"Probably the neighbors." Kaneme said acidly, "Honestly, any little thing will-" Kenshio knelt beside the woman and placed a hand over her mouth as Karasuma answered.

"Karasuma."

"Ms. Karasuma? Usually it takes you a minute at this hour."

She cringed. Michael was right, it did usually take her a minute to wake up and answer; she hadn't thought of that. "I was up reading," She said lamely, "What is it?"

"The police called again. Someone called in reporting strange lights and noises coming from a driveway."

She sighed, it figured. "All right, I'll be right there, who have you called?"

"Haven't called Kenshio yet, already got a hold of Sakaki,."

"All right," Karasuma said, closing her eyes and mentally sighing at the thought of Sakaki. It would be hell explaining this one to him. "I'll call Kenshio."

"Right," and there was the click of Michael hanging up. Karasuma stared at the phone for a moment, trying to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat. Covering this would be hard. She wasn't sure she could do it. She was tired and jittery from calming Kaneme's power, her mind was still somewhat caught in the moment when the inferno had started; forcing her back to that night in the factory. Sakaki…

She turned, shoving the phone in her pocket ferociously and walking quickly to the street. As she passed Kenshio, she said, "We've got to go; Sakaki will be here soon."

Kenshio shook her head, "No, I was here early last time. It is best if I continue the trend, and make him think that I live near here."

_We wouldn't have to keep crafting these lies if he knew, _Karasuma thought to herself despairingly, _I trust him more than I trust you, but I'm lying to him. _Swallowing again, she nodded, "He knows where I live, though, I'll run and get my car."

Kenshio nodded and turned to Kaneme. She said something, but Karasuma didn't hear, already running down the street to her car.

* * *

Sakaki was second to arrive at the address, he recognized Kenshio's car already there. Frowning, he climbed off his motorcycle. Karasuma had mentioned that Kenshio might have lived near by, so that explained her earliness. Still, she stood too easily when they had received a call about a potential witch in the area. When she saw him, she came to stand beside him, saying, "Whoever it is, they are gone."

He frowned, "Already? How did they know we were here?"

The replacement shrugged; an action that seemed strange on her. "The driveway is scorched and warm; it is probably a violent craft. If the witch who caused it recovered, they probably would have moved on as soon as they could."

Sakaki sighed. He had to admit it made sense; but something still didn't feel right. Maybe it was the assurance with which she spoke about it, when he felt like they knew so little. Even what they knew was barely stable, based on assumptions and shreds of fact.

"Where's Miho?" he mused to himself quietly.

It was not meant for Kenshio's ears, but she apparently heard it anyway, because she said, "She called me; but I believe she lives further into town than I do."

"How long have you been here, anyway?" Sakaki asked, truly curious. She had mentioned the alley; which meant she had already seen it. That put her here at least five minutes before him, and he had been out the door exceptionally fast; having not been in bed.

"About seven minutes," Kenshio said. "It only takes me eight minutes at this time of night to get from my apartment to this general area."

"Oh," Sakaki said, feeling cheated. It was like finding a piece of a puzzle that fit another piece, only to find that the pieces were from different puzzles. He kept thinking he had finally figured out some facet of the replacement, and then found that it belonged in one puzzle; when he had thought it was the opposite. He was about to ask if Kenshio had seen anything else when Karasuma's car pulled up beside them. She parked and got out, glancing at both of them and then at the surrounding area.

"Are they gone?" she said finally.

"Yes," Kenshio replied.

Karasuma sighed, looking unsurprised. "We'd better have a look around to make sure."

They made their way to the driveway, Kenshio leading. Sakaki looked around, very surprised. The cement, the fences on either side, everything was sooty, as if a child had blacked everything out with charcoal. Karasuma knelt on the cement, reaching down and scrying the drive. She paused for a moment, face drawn. She cringed once, and then opened her eyes again, breathing a little hard. Sakaki resisted the urge to go to her and ask if she was all right; he knew she was. Instead, he asked, "Anything?"

She glanced up at him, mouth set in a line, and shook her head. "Not much. It's basically the same as the one before," _except this time, I'm in it, _she thought to herself.

"Nothing on the other person?"

Karasuma shifted, "No, nothing that I could see."

Sakaki wasn't sure what he thought of this. From what she had told him, her powers had grown to the point that she could find almost anything, especially if it had happened recently. Maybe it was because there was so little, he thought to himself; and then sighed. For the last week she had been strange, on edge. He still wasn't sure what was wrong, but he was beginning to get worried. What was, perhaps, more worrisome, was that she hadn't said anything to him. _It's probably something like that time of the month, _he said firmly to himself, _stop worrying._

"So what should we do?" Kenshio suddenly asked. Karasuma glanced at her, and then looked at Sakaki. He got the feeling that she barely saw him though; her eyes were focused elsewhere, as if she didn't want to look him in the eye.

"Kenshio, call Michael and update him, then go to the house that this driveway belongs to. Sakaki and I will go to the house that made the call," she nodded to the house on the other side of the drive. Kenshio nodded militantly and turned, taking out her phone and walking a little away from them.

Karasuma turned and walked to the other home, not even glancing at him. Feeling rather like a dejected puppy, Sakaki followed behind her a few steps. Questions formed in his mind and died on his lips; not strong enough to brave the somewhat cold shoulder she had put up. Before he could force any words out, they had reached the house and Karasuma was knocking on the door.

An older woman opened the door, her face seeming to be permanently pressed into a sour look. She peered at Sakaki, then looked at Karasuma and said, "You'd better be the police about those ingrates next door."

"Yes ma'am." Sakaki said, "You called about a disturbance?"

The woman looked closer at him and frowned deeper. "You two look a little young to be the police. Let me see your badges."

Sakaki glanced at Karasuma, who took out her badge without looking at him. Grudgingly, he held out his own for inspection. The woman finally nodded. "Never heard of that branch of the police, but all right, come in, and I'll tell you everything I saw so you can make a report."

She turned to let them in, and Sakaki wondered what had been put in her tea to make her so crotchety. Something sour, for certain. As the woman began to speak, he readied himself for a long and tedious interview.

* * *

As they walked from the home, the woman shutting the door behind him, Sakaki mused that the interview had actually been…informative. That wasn't quite the words, but one part in had been particularly disturbing; when they had asked for descriptions. The woman had paused for a moment, and then said, "I couldn't see them very well, after I ran to my phone to call the police, I grabbed my baseball bat and sat in my room." She shook her head, "That woman is dangerous, I'm telling you. Absolutely crazy. Her boyfriend is over almost every night, and I swear the brother of hers has been here every other day the past few weeks. I think they're plotting to kill me or something…"

Karasuma, looking somewhat pale, cut off her ramble, saying, "Did you catch a glimpse of anyone involved?"

The woman pursed her lips. "A few minutes before it all started, a woman knocked on the door. I keep track of these things, you see, if I'm sitting at the dinner table I see right at that yard."

"Did you see what the woman looked like?"

There was a pause, and Sakaki realized that the woman was staring at Karasuma, who shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. Finally, she said, "I think she was about your height and build. Wearing shoes a lot like yours." Frowning, she continued, "But she was wearing pants. The coat was similar, too…" She turned away as she said the last comment, almost as an after thought.

Sakaki had to very forcefully repress a sudden thrill of fear. The coat? That coat was fairly exclusive to the STN-J; and the only other woman currently in the STN-J was Kenshio. She was noticeably shorter than Miho, and had a stockier figure. There was no way the two could be mistaken for each other. So why did the woman describe someone based off of Karasuma, and then mention that the coat?

He had tried to catch Miho's eye to gauge her reaction, but it seemed that she hadn't heard the last comment. He was quiet as they met Kenshio again to report. Something was wrong; he simply couldn't deny it anymore. He needed to talk to Miho _without _Kenshio lurking in the corners. For the last week or so, she had refused to leave the two of them alone. He vaguely wondered what exactly she suspected; it was like she was chaperoning hormonal teenagers.

The sarcastic, funny part of his brain reminded him that they _were _teenagers, at least in physical age. He wasn't so sure about the hormonal part; as for himself, his libido remained perfectly intact. Still, they were more mature than to attack each other on a whim. He wouldn't want a meaningless fling anyway; though in his line of work, it was quite possibly the most intimate he would ever get with another person.

Shoving the depressing thoughts of his love life, or lack thereof, away, he attempted to listen closely to the conversation. It appeared that they were nearly finished, though, because Karasuma said, "I need to make a report, even though there was nothing." She sighed, "I'll do it tonight; I'm not tired."

Kenshio nodded, "Then are we finished here?"

"Yes, good night," Karasuma said, the salutation to both of them as she turned back to her car. Sakaki stood for a moment with Kenshio. She looked at him and nodded, then turned to her own car. He waited until they were both gone before getting on his bike and heading for the office. If Miho was doing the report, this was the perfect time to talk to her. It looked as if Kenshio was headed home; she had driven in the opposite direction. If she did follow Miho to the office somehow, he'd make up an excuse, maybe something about talking to the other woman.

Either way, he had to talk to her.

* * *

The lights flicked on readily in the office when she stepped out of the elevator. Michael had left; she had called him, given him an update, and told him that she'd take care of the report that night. He had been only too happy to return to his apartment and go back to sleep.

Just outside the doors, she dropped her things, leaving them in a little pile that looked a lot how she felt. Disorganized, gloomy, and somewhat alone.

There was a distinct difference, though. Despite the sudden chaos in her life, Karasuma felt morally at peace. Mostly. All misgivings about being a hunter had suddenly been discarded; because she was no longer a true hunter. She had turned sides. The thought, when put in such stark terms made her heart race in fear. She knew the penalties for this kind of treason. SOLOMON would somehow find a way to declare her a witch and order her hunt. It would fall to someone who had been with the STN-J the longest after her…Sakaki.

Her fingers stilled in the file cabinet that she had opened, her breath unexpectedly stilling.

Would he do that? Just the thought of them caught in a situation like that frightened her. An image of staring down the barrel of a gun, with Sakaki at the trigger rose in her mind…

No, no, it wouldn't come to that. They trusted each other too much for that. Still, the image lurked at the back of her mind as she sat down with the appropriate papers in hand, though, forcing her to double her efforts to concentrate.

It was in this way that she missed the elevator dinging, and the doors sliding open. But when she heard the quiet footsteps across the floor; she looked up, and nearly choked.

"H-haruto?"

A worried look flashed across his face before he forced a smile, putting a hand behind his head and scratching the back of his neck. "Thought you might like some company," he said, and sat down next to her.

She caught herself staring at him, and looked away purposefully. Having the real Sakaki there made her thoughts of him pointing a gun at her more and less real at the same time. More real, because she could see his face with her own eyes; and less, because…because… because she felt at peace with him. "Company is nice," she replied, "Though this report shouldn't take too long."

They sat in silence for a while. She had to concentrate to keep her hands from shaking, and her mouth shut. The easiest way to keep her hand steady was to write; and so she went as fast as she could, barreling through the report in a fashion that she knew she would regret in the morning. Without looking up, she heard him shift, and braced herself.

"I'm surprised Kenshio isn't lurking in the shadows somewhere," he said finally.

She smiled, letting out a low chuckle to disguise her relieved sigh. "So am I," she said simply, though she still did not look up at him. She was glad that he hadn't asked about her well-being; perhaps this wouldn't be so bad.

"Did she say anything to you when you gave her a ride last week?" he went on, "Seems like she's being stranger than usual."

Her pen jerked slightly more than needed, leaving a larger line on one character in her sentence. Say anything? _She said a lot; probably more than I heard her speak in the three months she was here before. She told me she was the accomplice, and that I was going to join. She told me that there was a coven, a coven, Haruto! Here in Tokyo, with over seventy witches living normally and happily, and that she was the leader of them all... And then she told me I couldn't breathe a word to you. _She blinked. "No…I-I just dropped her off. She wasn't very talkative."

She thought that he might make a sarcastic comment about whether she was _ever _talkative, but instead there was a somewhat frightening silence.

"Miho," he said quietly, "look at me, please?"

For a moment, she stared numbly at her papers. She was scared to do as he asked, afraid that he would see that she was keeping something from him in her eyes. _He isn't stupid, _she realized, _he knows something is wrong all ready._ Then I'll just have to deny everything, she decided, and looked up to meet his eyes. "What is it?" She asked as steadily as she could; but even to her own ears her voice was quiet and tremulous.

"Are you all right?" He asked gently, leaning forward almost imperceptibly. "You've been acting a little strange yourself for awhile," he paused, then asked, "Is it your craft?"

She had lost her voice, any walls that she had truly maintained against him rapidly deteriorating. "No," she managed to choke out, "No, it isn't that. I just…" she took a steadying breath, trying to regain what composure she could. Perhaps if she hadn't known for certain that he would have joined the cause willingly, it would have been easier to lie. If they hadn't ever talked about their difficulties with being hunters after Robin, she possibly could have looked him in the eye and told him she was fine. Maybe if he hadn't taken care of her that night she was drunk, or laughed with her the next day, or eaten lunch and pretended they were normal human beings, she could act her part as a traitor and discard any personal feelings she shared with him and say that yes, it was her power, and she'd get over it.

But it had all happened. And she couldn't do it.

"…I need to go." She abruptly rose and stuffed the paper in her desk, suddenly moving efficiently in her attempt to get out. He rose, reaching a hand out as if to grab her, but moved it back before making contact.

"Please, Miho, you can trust me," he whispered, and in his voice she heard every feeling of sorrow, confusion, guilt and disjointedness mirrored as if from within herself.

She looked him in the eye, swallowed, and said sadly, "I **_do _**trust you, Haruto."

They both heard the unspoken overtone to the statement. It hung in the office air as she stepped into the elevator, pausing only to grab her purse.

_But I can't tell you.

* * *

_

It took a surprisingly short amount of time to reach her conclusion when she walked in the door to her apartment. The ride home had been made with a careful attention to traffic laws, the fastidiousness of her driving keeping her mind off what she had left at Raven's Flat.

But as soon as she stepped into her flat, she couldn't dodge it anymore. Instead of breaking down into tears, though; she found herself more calm then she had been all week. It was clear and final; she didn't have another choice, and she didn't want one. If she died for standing up and speaking, then so be it.

The phone rang only once, "Speak," Kenshio's one-word greeting cut through the dark inthe apartment like a laser.

Without preamble, Karasuma said firmly, "I'm not doing this without Haruto."

* * *

**Whew. Fifteen pages of info, action, and angst, angst, angst! Ok. So it's not early as angsty as it could be. Nothing compared to lots of WHR fics. But still. Quite a bit for this story!**

**um...anyway...**

**Please! Feedback! I LOOOOOOVE feedback, especially good constructive stuff that gives criticism and points out good parts, so I can repeat them. **

**As always, thanks goes to Harry's. . ya'll rock my socks off!**

**ps: word count to date is about 13,041. w00t, it's official, I have no life.**


	9. Not Without You

**W00t w00t, ya'll! Guess who went and got herself firefox? Lemme tell you, it rocks my socks off! **

**Erm. Anyway. This chapter maketh me happy, and I hope it makes you happy too! Just the way to end your monday! **

**Oh yes, and this is still in Nanowrimo C2, and it's still going, so I still have an excuse for a lack of betaing. **

* * *

"I'm not doing this without Haruto."

She had to hold her breath, waiting for the answer from the stony replacement. It was a long time in coming, but she refused to elaborate. Finally, there was a very quiet grunt, as if acknowledging an irony. "Fine. But he will have no influence from you. He must join freely and as if you were not with us."

She lost her breath, regained it, and then lost it again; first with the sudden relief of Kenshio's concession, and then with the realization that they would be doing it _without her._ Still, she knew he would come. Even if they didn't tell him, he would know she was there. It would have to do. "Fair enough. He will not say no."

"He will not survive if he does." And Kenshio hung up the phone, looking over her shoulder to glare at the man beside her, grinning into his hand.

"I told you, Kasu, they are _partners. _It never does to separate the halves of a whole in these matters."

Kenshio muttered a quiet 'rot in hell' before shoving her phone in her pocket and stalking in the direction of her car. "We will do it tomorrow; after the work day."

He resisted the urge to laugh at her as she opened her door and climbed in. She was behaving distinctly like a cat that had just been drenched; twitching and attempting to keep her dignity. She was an interesting woman; how anyone could miss her double face was a mystery to him. Perhaps she had always been an enigma, even when she had been loyal to the organization; and so the change she underwent was so subtle that no one noticed. He suspected that her obsession with awakening witches and thwarting SOLOMON stemmed from once being a believer in the organization. Such single-mindedness was usually the sign of a born and bred, or a change of heartnot a nagging, constant doubter suddenly given a route to act. Beside that, he was nearly positive that to receive her training from the organization, she would have had to have undergone tests of loyalty beyond physical and emotional discomfort- perhaps even beyond pain. More than likely, he would never know, unless told by another. For now, it was something interesting to ponder as he walked to his home on night such as these; when she sped away from his correct answers.

* * *

Sakaki Haruto was amazed at how easy it was to not make eye contact with, or speak to, a co-worker. Even when that co-worker was only one of five in a small office, it was still possible to dance around each other.

Of course, it wasn't that he didn't _want _to speak with Miho, and he suspected that it wasn't that she didn't _want _to speak with him. In fact, he wanted to apologize, tell her that if it was that important, then he could deal with not knowing; it was probably better for him anyway, in the grand scheme of things.

There was one thing keeping him from the simple act of taking her aside and quietly saying that he was sorry though, and that was the knowledge that she wanted to tell him. But something was keeping her from saying anything, and whatever it was, it was obviously taxing her. The whole day, she spoke with half the inflection that she usually used, and she easily slipped into stretches of staring into space.

And so, not wanting to make it harder, he tried to refrain from talking to her, opting for general statements rather than direct, and a chain system of talking, usually through Michael. Since there was little to do that day, no hunts and only a meager amount of investigating, it was somewhat easy.

_Well_, he thought, _in theory_. He hadn't realized just how much he enjoyed chatting with her; even with the vulture of a replacement hanging over them. Kenshio couldn't hear the smiles they shared, and she couldn't understand how Miho's tone of voice reflected exactly how she was feeling if one listened just right. Even with an outsider watching, they could still talk, and _speak_, to each other.

Not now, though. He grimaced as Karasuma walked into the room at the end of the day, shuffling through the papers quickly as they both struggled to look at one another without meeting eyes. He glanced at the clock on the wall; it was almost time to go. Normally Kenshio would leave first, then he would walk out with Miho, Hattori would sometimes shuffle out with them, and last, Michael would lock up. Today, though, everything was different. Kenshio seemed to be stuck at her desk, tapping away on the computer; Hattori hadn't even come in, calling in about his mother being ill that morning. Karasuma was the only one that was making any move to leave, and though he was anxious to get out himself, the thought of being in the elevator alone with her, and the small, nervous talk that they would make- as if they were two 12 year olds on their first date – kept him firmly in his seat. He closed his eyes for a moment, and then raised his head to watch her retreating back.

_Tomorrow, _he promised himself, looking back to his computer screen, _tomorrow I'll talk to her; tell her that it's alright. _He glanced at the closing elevator doors one last time, thinking that she would be facing the window; watching the ground come up to meet her as he knew she often did. But she was facing the office, reaching for the same last glance that he had wanted. All of their hard work in avoiding each other was for nothing; a split second of eye-contact seemed to shatter his heart and mend it again in one stroke. She was a _friend, _more that a friend,being out-of-sorts with her felt like fumbling blind for something in the middle of the night. He knew she was there, felt like he knew how to reach her, but for the life of him couldn't touch her. He wished that he could, now.

He started from his thoughts when Kenshio rose from her computer. She glanced at him once, nodded to him, and then nodded to Michael. With her usual briskness, she gathered her things, called the elevator, and left. Sakaki turned back to his computer and frowned as he saw the time. "Is it just me," he said to Michael, "or did she leave really late today?"

Michael shrugged, the tapping of his foot matching the base in his music. Sakaki wondered how in the world Michael could hear him, and how he could answer without missing a letter in his typing. "I wondered the same thing," the hacker said, "so I checked out her keystrokes. Nothing much, really."

"I still don't know about her," Sakaki said, sitting back, "she's so spy-like that it makes me wonder what she's really here for."

The hacker pulled out his earphones and turned, shrugging. "I checked out her file after that incident with Single-Eye you and Miss Karasuma had. She's been with SOLOMON since she was twelve, when she started training, and reached the highest hunter status at twenty-two. She specializes in information gathering and strategy."

Sakaki whistled. "She's been with SOLOMON for fifteen years?"

"Uh huh. Her inquisition was traditional, and the cardinal who did it recommended her for Hunter training."

Sakaki winced at the mention of inquisitions. He had been through a light one only two years ago, as every person with an awakened craft went through before being accepted as a Hunter and assigned a post. Still, it had been one of the most frightening experiences of his life, and that included the factory. "Guess that rules her out as a spy outside of SOLOMON," he said.

"Got that right. I read her recommendations, and everyone mentions first her intensity, and then her loyalty to SOLOMON."

Sakaki grunted. "Guess we were right the first time," he said, "She's probably here to keep an eye on us."

Michael chuckled, "That'd be my guess," he said, and spun on his chair back to the computer screen, returning his headphones to his ears again in the same move.

Sakaki sighed, also turning back to his desk. Glancing at the clock, he realized that it had been nearly ten minutes since Kenshio left. She would be well out of the garage now, and he wouldn't have to deal with trying to ignore her quiet intensity. He shut down his computer, grabbing his helmet and jacket as he called the elevator.

"Going home?" Michael asked.

"Yeah," Sakaki replied, his manner preoccupied, "I'm done here."

The elevator doors slid open, and Sakaki began to walk inside. Halfway through, Michael stopped him though, "Sakaki?"

He turned, placing a hand on the frame and leaning against it, "Yeah?"

Micheal paused for a moment, for a moment looking like Robin at her most hesitant. Sakaki smiled at the thought; Michael had really liked Robin, he'd admitted as much to Sakaki a few weeks after the fire wielder and Amon had disappeared. It was amazing to see how much the hacker resembled the girl at times. When Michael found his voice, though, the similarity abruptly ended. "Whatever's going on with you and Miss Karasuma…work it out, will you? It isn't any of my business, but you both looked miserable the whole day, and I've never seen two people work harder to avoid each other."

Sakaki blinked twice at Michael, all thoughts of Robin erased. "That obvious, huh?"

Michael nodded.

Sakaki brought a hand up to rub the back of his neck, frustrated and confused at the same time. "Guess I'm not surprised," he said, and then smiled, "Don't worry, we're just…" he groped for the right words, and finally had to lamely settle for, "a little confused."

"Sure, Sakaki, it's alright. I was just…worried." Michael said, and then shrugged, "go on, I'll lock up soon."

Sakaki stepped through the door the rest of the way, frowning out of the paned elevator. His words to Michael had been completely true, at least for him, and in more than one way. Not only was his situation with her confusing at the moment, but his entire relationship with her. He had been out of sorts with co-workers before, Karasuma had ordered him off hunts occasionally when he had first come to the STN-J, Amon had once reprimanded him for leaving the team and promptly told him how partners functioned. Michael, during his imprisonment, had every once in a while gone sour when Sakaki mentioned going somewhere. He knew what it felt like to be in a mild argument or awkwardness with a co-worker. But this was different. This was practically torture, and that Michael had noticed _both_ of them looking miserable, _and said something,_ spoke volumes to him about the situation. Michael knew them both well, but he was shy at heart, and it would have taken a lot to get him to speak up.

Sakaki sighed, exiting the elevator as he grabbed his keys from his pocket. He stuck them into the ignition when he reached his bike, mounting it and pulling on his gloves and helmet before turning the keys. The engine coughed and spluttered for a moment, settled into a contented purr, then coughed and spluttered again; this time dying.

Perplexed, he tried the ignition again, to achieve the same result. The third time the engine barely emitted a sound before choking. Sakaki resisted the urge to try a fourth time. Whatever was wrong, he wasn't helping by continuing to try the ignition. Groaning, he dismounted the bike and peered at the dials in the steering.

His jaw dropped. He was out of gas? How had he managed to ignore _that _little detail? Standing back from his bike, he put his hands in his pockets and grunted. "Huh. What a way to end a day." With a shrug, he left his helmet by the bike and started on foot out of the garage. There was a gas station not far from the office; a five minute walk at most. It was a nice day too, but he couldn't suppress a grumble as he broke into the sunlight. He wanted to get home and contemplate, not shell out money for gas and a container.

He was a block away from the station, deep in thought, when movement at the corner of his eye made him look up. To his right was an alleyway, where the movement sprang from. He looked closer, eyes focusing on an older, weathered man standing against the wall and looking straight at him. Single-Eye. The recognition was instantaneous, and Sakaki's first reaction, to run after the man and hunt him down, nearly won out. He had taken three steps into the alley and reached into his jacket before he realized how stupid he was being. He had no back-up, no information, he didn't even have Michael. He stopped, hand already half-way withdrawn from his jacket. The bastard knew that Sakaki couldn't go after him, too, otherwise he wouldn't have been standing there so openly.

Sakaki knew for a fact that if it he had been Amon, he probably would have gone after him anyway. If it had been half a year ago, he would have gone after him anyway. But now he knew his limitations, and he knew that the smartest thing to do would be to walk away, go straight back and report to Michael that Single-Eye was in the area, and they could still track him if they got out there quickly. And so, giving Single-Eye a glance of pure venom, he turned on his heel to leave the alley for the street, all thoughts of more gasoline forgotten.

Upon reflection later, he would kick himself for not noticing the figure in the shadows, the footsteps behind him, or just for turning his back in the first place. Suddenly, there was a thump, and someone had jumped onto his back. A cloth appeared in front of his mouth, the distinct sting of chloroform filling his senses. On first inhalation, the poison actually spurred him into action, reaching back to take hold of his attacker's head, which slipped from his grasp when he took the second breath of anesthetic. He coughed, the kick-backs drawing more tainted air into his lungs, making his eyes water and his mind fog over. _Not a fucking chance in hell, _he thought to himself, _this is **not **how Sakaki Haruto is going under. _Gathering what he could find of his thoughts, he blindly reached for his craft and pushed as hard as he could.

His shoulders nearly popped out of his sockets as the attacker resisted, but in the end, he won, his telekinesis hurling the person off of him and on to the alley wall. He took a deep breath of clean air before forcing his numb fingers to movement, drawing his gun and turning to train it on the figure that had slid down the wall and was also training its gun on him.

His mind reeled. "Kenshio?"

She didn't say anything to him, spitting to the side and muttering "Goddamnit. I _told _her," to herself.

"Who?" Sakaki asked, not caring if the comment was not made to him, "Who did you tell what?"

"That is not of your concern," she said, staggering to her feet, "Right now your concern should be proving to me that you are worth keeping alive."

Sakaki stared at the replacement, wondering exactly what she meant by that. The thought that came to him made his blood run cold. It all worked out, he and Miho had thought of it themselves. Kenshio, a spy from SOLOMON, sent to keep an eye on them. Who was to say that she wouldn't get orders to _hunt_ one of them?

"They've decided to hunt me?" he asked, voice a lot less brave then he would have liked it.

Kenshio began to chuckle, as if she would have found it funny; provided she ever found anything funny. It was an empty laughter, bouncing hollowly along the alley walls, accosting his ears. "So that's your greatest fear, hunter?" she said, voice harsh and clear, "To finally be on the other end of that gun? To pay for hunting your own kind by being hunted?"

Sakaki did not answer immediately, mostly because Kenshio had just spoken his thoughts exactly. His first instinct was to become defensive, ask what she knew about it, how difficult it was becoming to pull the trigger on others that he now knew were very similar to him; all too similar. He saw the green of the holding tanks in his dreams some nights, still felt those rushing final moments in the factory, when everything in the entire world had depended on the ladder he and Michael were suspended on. But then he stopped. What kind of hunter, when killing a rampant witch, would utter those words?

None that he knew, that was for sure. No, it sounded like someone who had a grudge against him for hunting. But that didn't make sense; Kenshio was supposedly one of the most loyal of SOLOMON's hunters. A little voice in the back of his head reminded him that Amon had been the same way. Until he had turned sides for Robin. "You aren't really a hunter, are you?" he asked slowly, though his gun did not move.

Kenshio seemed surprised that he had put the pieces together so quickly, and hesitated almost imperceptibly before saying, "Perhaps. Are you?"

"I don't see any reason to be honest with you unless you do me the same courtesy," he said haughtily.

She snarled, "And I the same. But I hold the answers, and you want them."

"I can live without them."

"No, you won't."

Sakaki caught her meaning immediately. Unless he listened to her, he would die. And unless he gave her the answers she wanted, she would not let him hear what she had to say. But he had no idea what she wanted to hear. He now knew that she was not here for SOLOMON, which was a relief in itself, but it also put him in the position of guessing what her objective really was. "Maybe not," he said, "Who gives you the power to judge?"

"I could ask you the same thing. Why do you hunt those who have done nothing but live?"

There was something familiar about the words they were exchanging, it felt formal, directed. His reply was quick and fluid, as if it had been rehearsed before, "I hunt; it is what I was trained for."

"Certainly, you were trained for it, as I was, but you did not answer my question; why do you hunt?"

He opened his mouth to give the answer that hovered at the back of his mouth, and stopped. Suddenly he realized why it had felt so strangely familiar. This had the same form as an inquisition. Using words and layered meanings to judge a man or woman for hunting. But he knew Kenshio was no inquisitor; only ranking church officials could attain that place in SOLOMON. And she was trying to lead him to a different admission: whereas for SOLOMON, he would have had to avoid any sympathy to witches, she was _looking _for that sympathy. "I hunt because it is the only thing I know how to do," he said.

"It is the only thing you have been _taught_," she said ferociously, "do you believe it is the only way?"

He glared. Even with his life on the line, he was not prepared to open his heart to the replacement, but the truth was, he did not believe it was the only way. "No."

She sent him a cutting glance, and clicked the safety on, turning her gun away from him. "If that is the truth, then it will please you to know that others think the same."

"Who?" Sakaki asked, returning her gesture of trust by turning his own gun away, though he did not put the safety on.

"Others. We work together to awaken witches and teach them control, rather than fear. We are freeing witches from ignorance and fear of their own power. Fear is not a gentle teacher."

For a moment, Sakaki agreed, but then her words fell into place. Single-Eye had had an accomplice, an unknown, darker figure that stayed in the shadows. The revelation was confirmed when he spun around and saw Single-Eye again, this time only feet from him. Without a second thought, he leveled his gun on the man. Single-Eye had attacked him twice, though only once with success, and attacked Miho at least once with a great deal of success. He refused to be had again. But just as his gun fell into aim, he felt Kenshio's gun on the back of his neck, then cold click of the safety ringing in his ears.

"You would die with him," she said, but Sakaki did not move.

Single-Eye sighed. "Kasu, can't you do anything without being melodramatic?" he asked. Sakaki was surprised at how level his voice was, how incredibly _sane _he sounded. And that was to say nothing of his words; didn't the man realize that there was a gun trained on him at point-blank range? The witch looked straight at Sakaki with a blank face. "Evening. She hasn't told you a thing yet, has she?"

"She certainly didn't mention _you._" Sakaki said with a growl. "I didn't realize you had to work with a mad-man to free the witch world."

"Oh, so she did tell you something? I'm surprised."

Single-Eye was being blasé to a fault about the whole thing, which put Sakaki strangely on edge. Was he under Kenshio's protection, and not worried? "What hasn't she told me?" he asked cautiously.

"Lots of things. Most of them need to be experienced, and we can't let you do that unless we know that you won't betray us." Single-Eye replied with a shrug.

Sakaki sighed in frustration. He had already figured that much out. What did they want to hear from him? "And how can I prove that to you?" he asked, "You obviously aren't too keen on taking my word for it, and I'm not about to go through an initiation ceremony."

Single-Eye chuckled, and Sakaki thought he heard a snarl from Kenshio, but he wasn't sure. "You might start by taking your sights off of me. Personally, I don't care whether I live or die, and I doubt anyone else really does; but if _you_ die, I know at least one person who would be miserable."

Sakaki's eyebrows rose. Then, cautiously, he put the safety on his gun and lowered it. Who in the world could he and Single-Eye have in common? Besides Kenshio, who was obviously off the list as she was the one threatening his life, he couldn't think of anyone…except…

He frowned as an idea came to him. "Why are you telling me?"

Kenshio frowned; face clouding over as if he had just mentioned a death in the family. Single-Eye looked at her, seeming vaguely amused. "She didn't want to. There was an ultimatum put up that she couldn't refuse, though."

He put the pieces together as fast as he could. Single-Eye and Kenshio were the two people that they had been hunting for the past few months. But the most recent hunt had included a third person, and if that woman who had used Miho as a model for a description for the third person had actually _seen _Miho... He remembered the pain in her voice when she had said that she trusted him. "Miho," he whispered, "You've already told Miho." Single-Eye smiled, and Sakaki knew that he was right. She had _known_, she had been involved in this, and she had wanted to tell him. Had she really put Kenshio to an ultimatum like that? For him? "Is she really that valuable to you?" he asked. Kenshio had always seemed like such a solo act, it was strange that she would admit to relying on anyone.

"More than you realize." Kenshio said dully. She seemed to have given up on the tough act, falling back on a reserved and cold manner.

"And she put you to an ultimatum? What if I had said no? What if I had refused to listen to you?"

Kenshio met his gaze, her piercing eyes striking him like a blow to the chest. "I would have lost her. She will not do it without you, Sakaki Haruto. If I lose you, then I lose her as well."

Something in his heart swelled to hear that, though the words were somewhat disturbing. Unwittingly, he had been in charge of both their lives for a moment. The revelation showed just how much Miho trusted him, his decisions, and his actions. He looked at Single-Eye and grunted. He supposed that his sudden acceptance of the situation when he had finally figured out her involvement in it showed his reciprocate trust. Even if it did include Single-Eye, if Miho had decided that the cause was worth the risk, he would follow. "I guess that decides it, then," he murmured.

"You have not said, 'yes' yet." Kenshio reminded him.

"I thought not killing you would have been 'yes' enough."

"Then you are accepting? You understand what we are doing?"

"Yes," Sakaki answered firmly. "I understand."

Kenshio nodded, and handed him a card with an address and a time. Sakaki recognized the name of a semi-upscale restaurant. "Meet me here in two hours." she said, "I will tell you everything you need to know then."

Sakaki stared down at the little card for awhile as Kenshio and Single-Eye walked out, going opposite ways when they reached the sidewalk. It was like something out of a spy movie, he thought. Except, this time, he was just the one in the middle; instead of the hero. Then again, he hadn't tried to play the hero for a long time. Eventually, it had just become a tiring game of killing and trying to avoid being killed.

Still frowning, he stuck his hands in his pockets and walked out of the alley. Directly to his left as he came out was a container of gasoline, mostly full. For a moment, he stared at it with dead eyes; then snorted humorlessly and picked it up, starting back to Raven's Flat. By the time he got home, he would only have an hour to get ready before going to dinner with the replacement.

* * *

Karasuma woke the next morning with her jaw clenched and mind still lagging in her dreams. They had been confusing almost to the point of pain, and while she usually didn't read into her dreams, it had been so vivid that it was hard to ignore. And yet, though she remembered the dreams as being vivid, when she tried to grasp them and study them, the images slipped from her grasp. Still lying in bed, she squeezed her eyes tightly shut and tried to conjure the pictures back to her mind, but they remained on the edges of her consciousness, teasing her.

She bit back a moan, realizing that she couldn't waste time in bed, chasing after faded dreams. As she got up, began to dress, and go about her routine, the lump in her throat grew harder and harder to swallow around. She had been avoiding thinking about it all morning, but she knew that Kenshio had, one way or the other, told Sakaki about the coven the night before.

Again, she shied away from the thought of it, not wanting to contemplate what might be. What if he didn't come to work? What if he simply wasn't there? She wasn't sure what she would do, and thinking about the possibility only made the lump in her throat grow. Of course, it could be that he was alive and well, but wouldn't speak to her. She had kept it from him, after all, had kept that she was working with a spy and Sakaki's arch enemy, if the man had ever had one. Honestly, she wasn't sure which would be worse; Sakaki dead and her very likely soon to follow, or Sakaki angry enough not to speak to her, to keep her at arms length and not trust her again.

Surely death? She wasn't sure. Death and the chance to be unaware of the world around her, the chance to be, for once, blissfully ignorant? Or life, to be physically near but emotionally removed from someone that she felt she had finally connected with? W_hat kind of choice is that? _She asked herself. She knew that if Sakaki had chosen to join the movement, if he had lived, then she would be content. Even if he did refuse to speak to her.

Frowning once more at her reflection in the mirror, she caught her keys on her hand and walked out the door to face the day.

* * *

The day was, unfortunately, quiet again. Sakaki repressed a sigh as he watched Miho make a cup of tea, her hands steady but the rest of her on edge. It almost seemed like yesterday all over again. Well, he amended, not quite. Today his mind was still swimming in information that Kenshio had given him. Today he knew Karasuma's reasons. He wasn't confused any more, but what he wanted to talk to Miho about couldn't exactly be spoken about at the office, where hidden cameras could possibly catch their every word. And he didn't feel that he could speak to her until he had said what he needed to. He wasn't sure why she wasn't speaking to him, though, and finally decided that she was waiting for him to make the first move.

And so, not being able to talk to each other, they went through the day in silence again. He was in the middle of revising a case file when she walked past him and into the elevator, resolutely facing away from the office as she waited for the doors to close. As he watched, though, he saw her arms reach up to hug her elbows, and caught a tremor in her shoulders before the elevator doors closed. He sighed to himself and turned back to the file. Even if he hurried, he wouldn't be able to catch her, a thought which depressed him somewhat. He didn't take his time, though, not wanting to have to lie to Michael if the hacker asked what was wrong, now that he knew what was coming between him and his partner.

It was fifteen minutes before he was able to punch the button to call the elevator up. He glanced out the window as he waited for the doors to open, and saw that the dark clouds that had been hovering over the city all day had finally given up a light rain. Though it was only six-thirty, it looked like ten o'clock at night, and the street lights had already turned on. Sighing, he stepped into the elevator and hit the button for the garage, morosely watching the ground rush up to meet him. The movement stopped, and he turned to exit. Half way to his bike, he paused, looking to his right. In it's usual place stood Miho's car.

He frowned. She had left the office nearly twenty minutes ago, why was her car still here? He knew that he hadn't seen her going out, so it wasn't that she had forgotten something. Taking off his gloves, he rested a hand on the hood. As far as he could tell, the car hadn't been turned on recently at all; it was cold as the air around him.

Worried, he looked around, wondering what had happened to her. It was like she had gotten on the elevator and disappeared. He beat down panic that rose in his chest, trying to think logically. Maybe there had been something wrong with her car, and she had needed to go to the gas station, much like him yesterday. Following that train of thought, he wandered to the opening in the garage, peering around to try and catch a glimpse of her. He hadn't expected to be successful, but as he looked across the street to the small park there, he saw her sitting on one of the benches under a lamp, shielded from the light rain by a tree branch that hung over her like a protecting arm. He sighed in relief. His imagination had wanted to run away with him, thinking of her hunted without speaking to him again…he shook himself. There were no cameras in the park, he was fairly sure of that; he would make sure that something like that didn't happen.

Bare hands in his pockets, he stole across the street and into the park, walking along the wet cemented path to reach her. She had her hands folded in her lap, and stared at them tiredly, though he knew that she heard him coming. Even when he came to a stop in front of her, looking down at the top of her head, the beads of rain water trapped in her hair, she didn't look up at him, though it was the only thing he really wanted.

"I-" she started, and swallowed, "I'll understand if you hate me," she finally said quietly.

He looked at her in surprise. Was that what she had thought the whole day? That he hated her? "No, I don't hate you," he said, and added, "I don't think I could."

He could almost feel her sad smile on his soul as she asked, " Are you sure? I've been working with the enemy, sort of."

He shifted. The thought had occurred to him that she had been working with Single-Eye for a week, the one witch that he had been really sorry got away. "I'm a little confused as to who the enemy, now," he said, shifting in place, "but it isn't you." He sighed, seeing the slight movement of her facial muscles as she blinked in surprise, "It could never be you." He finished quietly.

For a moment, she was silent, seeming to digest this information. "What did you say?" she asked after a moment.

He smiled somewhat ironically, knowing that she could feel his smile just as he could feel the nervous clench of her jaw. "I said yes, of course. They would have killed me otherwise."

"Is that why?" she asked, "because they would have killed you?"

He sighed. "No. It had something to do with it, but that wasn't it."

"Why, then?" her hands clenched around each other a little tighter, "I-I want to know, if your doing it for the same reasons I am."

"If your doing it for Robin, then yes."

He heard her sigh lightly. "Yes."

Something in him paused as he looked at her, and suddenly, he wanted to see her face, look her in the eye and tell her that everything was fine. He knelt, bring his face so that she looked at him without moving. She seemed surprised as he said, "I'm doing it for other reasons too, Miho."

She blinked, and a tear made it's way down her cheek. He reached a bare hand from his side and put it to her face, wiping the tear away with his thumb.

She gasped slightly as his cold hand met her face, and suddenly felt him there more acutely then she ever had before. Without her meaning it to, her craft jumped out and scryed him, the contact with human skin making it easier then it usually was. She closed her eyes and heard Kenshio's voice, as it had spoken to him the day before. '_She will not do it without you, Sakaki Haruto. If I lose you, then I lose her as well.' _What came next bowled her over, as he suddenly decided that if she had gone with them, then he would follow. She opened her eyes, ending the connection, and looked at him for a long moment. He had realized that he would follow her anywhere, to the depths of hell if need be, and she was not surprised to learn that if it came to that, she would do the same. "Haruto…" she whispered quietly, reaching out to lay her own hand on his cheek, feeling him lean into her touch.

"Now you understand." He said quietly, eyes connecting with hers and holding.

She studied him for a moment, noticing how the rain had caught in his eyelashes, how he felt warm to her hand, and her breath caught. "Yes," she said quietly, and leaned down, pressing her lips to his in a slow, sweet kiss that she savored as best she could. He did not pull away, closing his eyes with her and sliding his hand from her cheek to the base of her neck, making her shiver with its coldness there.

It lasted only a breath, but it was enough, and they broke easily, opening their eyes and blinking at one another, as if confused. He reached up and ran a hand through her hair slowly, then disengaged as she cupped his face one last time and let go. Then they both rose at the same time and walked from the light of the lamp, arms linked around each other as easily as two vines grown together in the summer time.

The rain continued to fall, oblivious.

* * *

**. yay. Feedback is uberly appreciated, you guys have been wonderful reviewers, keep em comin!**

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	10. The Reality in Illusion

**Well, spring break is over, and finals are starting, so updates may****slow a bit. I'll try to make chapters longer to make up for it (ala chapter eight). Well, you all are at my mercy anyway, but I thought I'd warn you ;-).

* * *

**

Life continued, surprisingly, as normal. Time slipped by, until Karasuma realized that it had been a month since Kenshio had asked for a ride and revealed that she was an imposter. A month since she had joined them. She came to the realization at the office, while typing up a report, and actually noticed the date. She stared at it awhile, face completely blank, contemplating all that had happened in the last month. The last two months, really; it had all seemed to start on that night that she finally decided she'd had enough, and was going to get a drink at Harry's.

It was strange to think back on that night, especially with the situation as it now stood. She shifted in her seat, thinking about 'how it stood'. Not only had she grown in power, she had turned sides. And then there was Sakaki, but that was a can – no, a bucket – of worms in itself. At the beginning, wherever she put it, they had been partners. Then they had become friends, in that moment at Harry's when the world had paused for the first time. Or maybe earlier, when they had laughed together in her apartment. Their trust in each other had grown deeper after the hunt of Higushini Aritmato, when they had realized that they shared the same reservations about hunting. And then…

She propped her chin on a hand, having hit a wall in her mind. Then, what, exactly? Certainly she had kissed him, he had kissed her in return; they had both come to the understanding that there were more than friends, or co-workers that night. There was a deep connection there, which had been forged without her ever noticing, and now that she _did_ notice it, it was the strangest and most wonderful feeling that she'd really ever had.

But it wasn't that they had gone back to simply trusting in each other above others. Not in the least. She could count the number of times they had actually kissed on one hand, but it was breath-taking. It could have been because her craft enhanced the touch of another human being, but even though the last time he had stolen a kiss was five days ago, her heart pounded thinking about it, and she still felt ghostly hands on her waist and jaw.

And yet, she couldn't really call herself and Sakaki a _couple, _or say that they were in a _relationship. _Couples went on dates, and the very thought of them on a date was laughable. Not only because they simply did not have the time, but because neither of them was really cut out for that sort of thing; it was just too…normal. Those in relationships allowed others to know of their involvement, and that was completely out of the question. Not only would Kosaka hit the roof, but she was sure that it would somehow affect her dealings with Kenshio, possibly impacting the coven. Though she wasn't as fanatic about it as the replacement was; the coven, and the people in it, was still very important to her.

There was a rustling beside her, and she sat up abruptly, wondering how long she had been contemplating. Raising her eyes, she prayed it wasn't the chief, or worse yet, Michael. She could brush off the chief, give a decent excuse, and he would leave her alone. Michael was more difficult. She and Sakaki had talked about it, but had decided in the end that they would not push to include Michael, much as it hurt them to leave him out. It was simply too dangerous. Still, it wasn't nearly the same as the guilt that had plagued her when her partner had been unaware; and so she could lie to him as well. But there was no need, she found, because Sakaki sat down beside her, smiling somewhat wickedly.

"So, what were you thinking about so deeply?" he asked, his eyes clearly stating that he knew exactly what she had been thinking about.

She mock frowned at him, and said, "Nothing in particular." Then she smiled slightly and looked away.

Sakaki grinned to himself and nodded, shuffling around the papers on his desk. "Funny, so was I."

They worked in silence for a while, he sorting his desk papers as he had to do every few weeks, she entering data into the computer.

Kosaka blustered into the room like a loud child, finally coming down from the office he had taken over after Zaizen. "Michael! Any hunts today?" he said loudly, standing next to the auburn-haired teenager and patting him on the shoulder in what Karasuma guessed was supposed to be a comradely way.

Michael shrugged, eyeing the chief strangely, "Nope. There have been a few somewhat suspicious deaths, but they're all being taken care of by the police."

Kosaka was in high spirits, and leaned over Michael's work station, peering uncomprehendingly at the computer screen. Karasuma knew that he wasn't really reading anything; Michael's screens were usually the bases of websites, filled with computer code that was a foreign language to most normal people. "Suspicious deaths, you say? Like what?"

Again the hacker shrugged, "Well, a woman who was burned to death, but it looks like its being ruled a suicide: they found a can of gasoline next to her and the remains of a lighter in her hand. The only discrepancy is that the body was burned at a heat higher then what gasoline normally produces. But the coroner is saying that if she had burned for a long time it could have had the same affect."

"Was she in our database?" Kosaka asked. Karasuma wondered what that had to do with it, though she suspected that Kosaka was simply trying to boost morale by feigning interest. They all knew that if there was a witch to be hunted, Michael would be on it like a shot. Kenshio resented him for it; Karasuma was almost happy for him. He didn't seem to have any problem with his hand in hunting witches, and she could see how he wouldn't. He had been given the simple version; find and coordinate. That was a job within itself; one she could never do, but it left him unable to see the effects of his work. She suspected the fact that he had no witch blood in him made matters easier as well; he had never had to wrestle with the question of hunting his own kind. She didn't blame him for it, how could the shuffling of genetics be his fault?

"Actually, she was." Michael said after a moment of searching, "Okansi Gita." He shrugged, "Wasn't awakened though, we don't have any other records on her."

Karasuma blinked twice at the name, turning to glance at Sakaki. She knew he recognized the name as well, because his face was somewhat disturbed. Kenshio had turned full around, suddenly paying very close attention.

"They say she killed herself?" The replacement asked. Karasuma's heart leapt to her throat. Kenshio was putting them at risk if Michael noticed her sudden interest the moment a name was mentioned.

"Yeah, poured gasoline over herself and opened the lighter. Some of her friends testified that she had grown a bit reclusive in the last two weeks of her life." He turned to regard the replacement, adjusting his glasses on his nose, "Why do you ask?"

Kenshio stared for a moment, and then shook her head. "No reason. I knew a girl who killed herself like that is all."

The room was quiet for a moment, as if in pity for Kenshio's 'friend'. Karasuma was fairly sure it was a cover; but of course, Kenshio _did_ now know a girl who had killed herself like that. She sighed; they had awakened Gita two weeks ago, Karasuma remembered her having a plant craft. It had been a calm awakening, all that had happened was the grass growing out of control in Gita's small backyard, but when Kenshio had brought her under control, she had been overjoyed at the prospect of literally having a power that was a green thumb. How could someone so happy with a new discovery suddenly kill themselves?

Frowning, she continued with her data entry, feeling Sakaki's heavy sigh echo in her own heart.

* * *

That night, as she, Sakaki, and Single-Eye waited for Kenshio to arrive, Sakaki said, "Am I remembering wrongly, or wasn't Mrs. Okansi happy to have her craft? Why would she kill herself?"

Karasuma shrugged. "I don't know. I think it's strange too. Her friends may have said she was becoming reclusive, but she was probably just practicing."

Sakaki shook his head in confusion, "I think you're right. When we left, it sounded like she was going to get right on trying to get her roses to bloom." He smiled sadly at the memory, "Said she wanted to send one to us."

Karasuma smiled also as Single-Eye shifted. He hadn't asked what they were talking about, and neither of the former hunters had offered. Karasuma respected the man - after all, he was able to hold his own against Kenshio - but he put her on edge. She had decided very early on that it was because of their hunt for him that she was uncomfortable with him. But she was only uncomfortable. Sakaki, though, simply couldn't get over the multiple transgressions that Single-Eye had committed against him, and though he never showed it outright, did not like the man. Still, they were able to function together, and Karasuma suspected that so long as Single-Eye never invited either of them for coffee one day, they would continue to get along.

She glanced around for Kenshio again, wondering where the woman had gotten off to. She was just about to turn and ask if her watch was wrong when her phone rang. She picked it up, wondering if Michael had found a hunt to please Kosaka. "Karasuma."

"I'm sorry, but my dinner burned, and I can't come right now." Kenshio's voice held a strange note of apology. Karasuma paused in confusion before remembering that that was the phrase they used if an emergency pulled Kenshio away. Well, it was the hunting version, if she came in to work late; she said that her alarm clock had not gone off.

She wasn't sure what to say, but the problem was solved when Kenshio went on, "You can start without me._ He _can tell you who is coming next." "

Karasuma coughed slightly, not sure she had heard Kenshio correctly. "Are you sure?" she said in surprise, "We could probably wait for you."

If she hadn't known that it was Kenshio on the line, she would have sworn she heard a quiet chuckle. "I'm sure you'll make a good host," the spy said, and then hung up. Karasuma gave the phone an odd look, before turning to look at Single-Eye and Sakaki. She must have looked more disturbed then she felt, because Sakaki suddenly frowned in worry.

"What's wrong?"

Karasuma shook herself, forcing her mind to begin functioning properly again. "Nothing…but Kenshio's taking care of someone. She said to go without her."

Sakaki's eyebrows rose, and even Single-Eye looked surprised. Bowing her head in slight embarrassment, she angled her face towards Single-Eye and said, "She said that you would know."

He nodded. "I do." He gave her a searching look for a moment before saying, "You must have finally gotten it through her thick skull that you're smart enough for this." Karasuma was glad of the darkness; her cheeks had turned slightly red. The fear-witch did not dwell on his surprise though, turning and saying, "Come on, this way."

Karasuma and Sakaki glanced at each other, and then moved as one to follow Single-Eye, the shadows somehow seeming to follow them.

They walked nearly five blocks before Single-Eye stopped. Looking over his shoulder, he nodded significantly to the house across the street. Karasuma glanced at it and the surrounding area, searching for a spot that was dark enough to hide them from easy view.

"What's your range again?" she murmured, knowing that Single-Eye would answer. No one in the group said his name; Karasuma wasn't even sure he had one. Kenshio always referred to the man as 'him' or 'you'; and neither Karasuma nor Sakaki had ever had the time or presence of mind to ask him.

"I prefer to be within twenty feet, but fifty is the most I can do with finesse," he replied.

She nodded. "Her front yard is fenced in and fairly private- and I don't see any other good places," she said, and sighed in relief when Single-Eye nodded in agreement.

"Do you want me to get her?" Sakaki asked close to her ear.

She paused for half a moment, forcing her thoughts to reconnect after the slide they had taken with his breath on her neck. Then she nodded. "Yes. We'll wait in the corner of the yard." She turned and stepped back to face them both. "Do you think it would go better in the house, or in the yard itself?" she asked, still unsure of her decision.

Single-Eye shrugged, "I can do it either way you tell me to, really," he said.

Sakaki frowned to himself. "The house would keep the neighbors from seeing or hearing, but we don't know her craft."

Karasuma nodded in relief. They rarely knew a craft before awakening a person, and crafts ranged from the benign but taxing telepathy or psychometry, to worked crafts such as powers with symbols or certain materials, to elementals of wind, fire, water, or earth. Some caused a lot of damage, and being inside a home could make everything even more dangerous. "You're right. Lead her as far out as you can."

Sakaki looked at the house again, smiling to himself. "Well, the car is in the driveway, and the driveway is outside the fence. I guess I'll tell her my battery is dead."

She smirked. That was Sakaki's story more often then not when he was getting people out of their houses. "I hope your batteries don't die as often as you say they do here," she said, still smirking.

He grinned at her, half turned towards the house across the street. "If they did," he said impishly, "I'd be broke. Not to mention frustrated." With a last wave, he began to walk to the gate of their target's fence.

Karasuma smiled after Sakaki a moment before stepping off the curb and following a few meters behind. Single-Eye fell into step beside her, and she thought she caught him casting her an odd look. But when she actually glanced over at him, the look was gone, his face impassive in the lamplight.

They slipped into the fenced yard as Sakaki knocked on the door, retreating to the darkest corner and standing still as statues. Karasuma held her breath as the woman, Tanikano Juli, stepped to the door, looking at Sakaki curiously as he told her his story. Juli hesitated, and Karasuma clenched her fists. But then she called something into the house and stepped out, closing the door behind her. Sakaki followed behind her, saying that he was sorry for the trouble, his battery always seemed to be dying these days. Karasuma cracked a small smile at the words, knowing he had said it for her amusement. Juli shook her head, saying that it was fine, she just had to be careful these days, what with all of the…

Just as the woman trailed off, Karasuma felt Single-Eye's power behind her, stopping the words before they were fully formed. Sakaki wordlessly picked the fear-stricken woman up and dragged her off the walkway, away from the little lights that lined it. Then he stood away, sticking his hands in his pockets to play the waiting game with the rest of them. Karasuma glanced at him, and he gave her an encouraging smile, which she returned despite her slight nervousness. So far, everything was going exactly the way it always did, and she told herself to relax. They would be done with the hard part soon.

She turned her attention to the tension rapidly increasing in the air. Closing her eyes, she waited for it to snap, taking even breaths to calm herself. In the final moments, she opened her eyes, and then felt it, like an audible click, as Juli's powers suddenly kicked in. She felt Single-Eye cut his craft, and started forward to use Kenshio's technique to help the new craft user. But as she did, there was suddenly a burst of color in front of her. She studied it, wondering if she could go through without being hurt. But when she looked to the side to see if there were other bursts of color around her, she found nothing but a dead alleyway. She caught her breath; where had Sakaki gone? And where was the yard? She looked down at her feet, and where once there had been grass; there was nothing but dead concrete. Was it an illusion? If it was, it was a very good one, there was no sound but the echoing of footsteps and the ground felt hard like concrete under her feet.

Transportation? It was not unheard of, but the craft was very powerful, and even more rare then the manifesting elemental powers. She was about to start forward when footsteps behind her made her look over her shoulder. To her surprise, she found Sakaki running towards her, his gait uneven and tired.

"Haruto?" she asked quietly, turning around and starting towards him. He was within five feet of her now, and looked up. She gasped; he appeared as if he had been through a war machine. One eye was blackened, bruises and scratches were everywhere. It was then that she noticed that he was favoring his left leg, and held his side with one hand.

"Miho…" he whispered and tripped, falling into her arms like a rag doll. She sank down to the concrete with his weight, cradling his head on her knees as she knelt by his side.

"Haruto," she said, fighting panic, "What happened to you? What did she do?"

He smiled up at her, reaching up one hand to take hers, and letting his side go to weakly touch her face with the other. She gasped as a pool of blood began to form on the concrete. That was a gunshot wound; who had had a gun? But all questions were washed from her mind when he said her name again, his grip on her hand loosing. She looked at his face, and he smiled, his mouth opening…

But a shot interrupted anything he would have said, his body shuddering once, and then his hand falling from her cheek. She gasped as his hand began to slid limply from hers, staring down at the blood stain that began to form in the center of his chest, then looking up to his face, deathly pale and contorted with sudden pain. There were sharp footsteps coming around the corner, but she couldn't look up, still in shock. He was dead. Somehow, he was lying dead in her arms. There was a shout, and she glanced up to find a squad of SOLOMON agents, dressed in their black attack suits and goggles. She choked on her own grief; he had been hunted then. _And no doubt I'm next, _she heard herself think. She glanced down at the man lying with his head in her lap again, and felt her heart shatter into microscopic pieces. After everything they had been through in the last few months, after they had finally grown to trust one another, dare she say it, love one another, he was gone.

But all she could feel was a gaping hole in her chest, and she couldn't even muster tears to fill it. He was growing cold even as she sat there, SOLOMON guns trained on her. He had stopped bleeding, the stain on the concrete beginning to dry. She stared at the blood numbly, wondering why it did not disgust her. She was not particularly squeamish, but the smell of blood had always made her want to retch. The smell…

She stopped, something in her mind pausing. Where were the smells? She inhaled through her nose, but smelled nothing…but grass.

Grass… she blinked, and the SOLOMON agents suddenly became translucent, she saw a wooden fence and the petals of a bright flower through them. She was still in the yard! She looked down at the dead face of Haruto, telling herself over and over again that it was not real, that if he had not moved, the real Haruto was alive not five feet away from her. She looked up, straining her eyes and mind to see him. The concrete flickered like a bad TV signal, and she caught a glimpse of him, kneeling with his head bowed in the grass. Her heart leapt, and she suddenly let go of the mirage's hand. The specter dissipated into the night, though she still thought she saw a ghost of the blood it had spilled on the ground in front of her. Turning around, she closed her eyes, starting forward until she felt Juli under her. She opened her eyes and knelt, seeing Juli's eyes move to her in fear. The woman whimpered, and Karasuma forced a gentle smile.

"It's all right," she said, and reached out to take Juli's hand. The power of Juli's craft swept her in. Karasuma found that she was not particularly powerful, simply very effective. She was grounded in earth, her craft able to find someone's greatest fear and show it to them with great detail. As she brought the power under control, Karasuma thanked any Gods that cared to listen that the woman had not had any more power. If she had, all of the smells would have been there as well, and she never would have gotten out of that illusion.

Unconsciously, she turned to look at Sakaki as soon as she opened her eyes, wanting to see him alive and unharmed after the vision that she had seen. He was looking at her too, and she thought she saw his hands shaking. But then Juli asked what had happened, and she turned back to the newest member of the coven, words of comfort and welcoming already pouring from her mouth like milk and honey as the fence creaked and leaves rustled.

Nearly an hour later, they walked back to the vehicles in silence. Single-Eye was with them, seeming to be steeped in his own thoughts. Karasuma wondered if he had seen anything, and what it had been. He seemed fairly unruffled, which was normal, but something about the way he frowned to himself made her think that his fears had been painted for him as well. She glanced at Sakaki, walking close beside her. It almost scared her that his death had been her greatest fear. Anyone who knew that would have power over her by threatening him. She had heard of many cases like that; and more often then not, they had not ended well. She had even taken part in witch hunts that utilized a lover's weakness. Every one had been successful, and now she understood why. Her heart twisted in her chest, and she brought a clenched hand to the base of her neck as she thought of the jolt his body had made at that last shot, the loosening of his hand in hers when his eyes closed.

She took a deep breath, getting her mind out of the vision. They had reached Sakaki's bike, and he stopped beside it, very slowly reaching out to take his helmet. Karasuma wanted nothing more then to stop with him and throw her arms around his neck, just to make sure he was real. But Single-Eye was still walking with them, and she knew that he would notice that something was strange if she stopped. And so she continued to her car, pulling the keys from her pocket and finding the right one for her car door. Single-Eye ambled on, disappearing and reappearing as he went from streetlight to streetlight.

She looked down, and brought the key up to the door to unlock it, but a hand on her arm stopped her. "Wait," Sakaki said quietly, "what did you see?"

She didn't look up, the keys shaking slightly as she whispered, "You." Swallowing, she continued, but the words were so hard to say, as if voicing them would make them come true. "Being hunted, and…" she stopped, looking up at him helplessly, the hole in her heart opening again just at the thought of the vision; it had seemed so real.

She thought she saw a sad smile in his eyes as he moved closer. "Me too," he whispered, hand sliding down her arm to clasp her hand, threading his fingers through hers. Her car keys slipped to the ground, jingling quietly.

There was a slight pause as she looked down at their intertwined hands, feeling his emotions shift beneath her hands; but she did not need her craft to know what they were. Then she lifted her face up to have her lips captured by his in a kiss that proved once and for all that the vision had been nothing more than an illusion. Just as she had felt her heart splinter in the illusion, she felt the pieces come back together again as he kissed her. Sliding her free arm around his neck, she closed her eyes, unable to hold back tears that she had not been able to shed before. They slid down her cheeks, to drip down her neck and into her shirt. But when a drop touched their lips, she realized that he was crying too. Letting go of his hand, she brought her hand up to wipe his tears away, and felt him do the same for her.

They broke for air, but connected again in almost the same moment, reluctant to let go. She leaned against the car and he pressed against her, their kisses growing more desperate and passionate. She didn't want to break away, even though she knew they probably looked ridiculous there, pushed against her car like the teenagers their birth certificates said they were, and she knew he felt the same. Still, when a door slammed a few houses away, they jumped and looked up, suddenly reminded that they were outside and in the open. Smiling apologetically, he stepped back a little, letting her stand up. No words were needed as he kissed her softly once more, and then turned to walk back to his bike.

She looked after him, relishing the tremble in her hands and the slight quiver in her lips that only he seemed to be able to bring about. As he started his bike, she picked her keys up from where they had been dropped on the pavement and unlocked her door, getting in as he sped away. The heart-wrenching fear that the vision had brought was mostly gone, replaced with the warm afterglow of his touch on her skin and mind. Sighing once, she started the car and began the drive home, wondering if this was the teenage puppy love people talked about in soap operas, or if they were chasing something more.

* * *

"Well. What have you discovered?"

The man, dressed in black from head to toe, snapped his heels together and saluted. "Sir, we confirmed two betrayers and one free witch helping them. It appears that they are the ones causing the witch increase in the Tokyo area."

"And the third betrayer, were you able to confirm her?"

"She was not there; but the woman mentioned that someone would not be able to come that night." The man paused, almost nervously. "Sir, I believe we need a little more time. We may be able to gauge their actions better with scrutiny."

"Of course, captain. We must be sure of their identities before we do anything, and knowing exactly what they are doing may help us capture other groups like this in other countries. You were aware that this kind of thing is happening all over the world?"

"Yes sir."

"It is our duty to stop it, captain."

"Yes sir." The captain said again, bowing. When he straightened, he said, "What about the woman, sir? The one they awakened?"

The captain shrunk back as his superior gave him a condescending look. "Do not be a fool captain. We rid the world of witches, and that woman has joined their ranks. Interrogate and kill her, they may have slipped this time and mentioned names." The captain saluted and moved to turn, when the man said "…but make sure to cover it."

He turned in surprise; voice pitched a note higher with nerves. "Pardon me, sir, but how? We already used suicide as a cover."

"Yes, and you did it poorly. I saw the pictures of the body; gasoline does not burn like that. You should have put kerosene, or oil by her." He waved his hand, "use your imagination. She has a husband; make it look like he killed her and then killed himself. We don't want them to know that we are on to them; they may run."

Mollified, the captain bowed again. "Yes sir. I will try to make the scene more believable this time." His superior nodded his dismissal, and he turned and marched out, leaving the colonel to stew in his cigar smoke and plans.

* * *

**Hm. Yes, the fluff. XD… A puff of fluff - ya'll want a hit? Of course you do.**

**Thankyou to: Spring break, Music (specifically Anna Nalick for this chapter), and Harrys.  
**

**Ok, I'm done being wacky, I think it's the ice cream. Again, please review, it makes my day when I come and see that people read!**


	11. I Tried

**What is it with me and posting on Fridays? Well, what would be posting on Fridays, if not for upgrades/screwiness. In any case, read, enjoy, and know that I didn't want to do it. :sob:

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Early in the morning, a week later, Karasuma frowned at her computer screen. It was not the work that was making her frown, but the name she had just typed into the program. It was the same woman that they had awakened two days before. She glanced at Sakaki, who was typing up a similar report on another familiar name; this time a man they had awakened five days ago. She looked at the work she had completed the night before; seeing the file on a man that had also been awakened five days ago, and then hunted two days later. She sighed. One dead by her hand, one by Sakaki's, and one that had been saved.

She bit her lip. Sakaki was typing the report on the one that had 'gotten away'. They had been able to save him, she and Sakaki circling around, looking for 'clues' as Kenshio went and brought him under control again. Karasuma wasn't sure how the replacement had managed to hide the witch again, but they had not heard anything about him from Michael yet. No news was good news. The other two had not been so lucky. Both had clawed their own faces, the man had even tried to pluck his own eyes out. She had tried to touch him and bring his power under control, but the chaos of his craft had seeped into his mind, inflicting scars that could not be healed. Perhaps most disturbing was what little speech they had retained. "Witch, witch, witch, oh God, I'm a witch, I cannot be forgiven…" and so on. It had been frighteningly reminiscent of a SOLOMON hunter's last words to their prey. The man had returned to silence when she lowered her gun on him, looking him in the eye and pleading for him to come back. He had returned her gaze, and then quietly and forcefully told her to shoot him and end it.

And so she had.

On top of the three hunts they had conducted, Kenshio had informed them that Tanikano Juli had been killed by her husband, who had killed himself minutes later. Karasuma still wasn't sure how she felt about it, still somewhat in shock. She still had nightmares about the visions that the woman had given her, but there was no doubt that something had changed between she and Sakaki that night; faced with the fact that they feared for each other more than themselves. But something still bothered her about the death. That two people who had been married for three years could not reconcile something like a craft except in violence made her wonder. Perhaps, though, there had already been marital strife, and she was reading too much into things. Still, something bothered her.

She knew that the others felt it too. On awakenings after the news about Juli, Kenshio had twitched like a nervous horse, turning her head quickly in every direction as if she was seeing things out of the corners of her eyes. Single-Eye was less talkative, she and Sakaki stayed closer together- though they continued to agree on keeping their relationship under wraps. She smirked, typing the last lines of her work. Had it really been a week since she had really been alone with him? Her memory of it had not faded in the least. Hitting the print button, she got up and looked at the time. Eight-fifteen. She had gotten here at 7:30, half an hour early, and Sakaki had come in fifteen minutes later. Michael, never the morning person, had stumbled in at 8:00, managing to be on time. Kenshio was late. She frowned again, that wasn't like the woman at all.

"Hey, Michael," she said, "did Kenshio call in?"

Michael looked up from his breakfast, and shook his head. Swallowing, he said, "No, but let me check something, her communicator might register." He shoved the rest of the pastry in his mouth and rolled his chair over to the computer. As he faced the screen, he gasped quietly. Karasuma looked over at the teen from across the room, and fancied that she could see the color draining from his cheeks as he gazed.

Sakaki also noticed the sudden spike in tension, and turned from his computer, looking over the hacker's shoulder. "What is it," he asked, the screen apparently not enlightening him.

Michael licked his lips as Karasuma walked over in concern. "After the STN-J was attacked, I made up a program to keep tabs on the building's security." His breath quickened, "Mostly as a practice; all I wanted was to be able to make sure there were no glitches. So I programmed it to tell me if it got turned off, like they did six months ago, or if it was being fed a loop…," he trailed off, staring in what looked like terror at his computer screen.

"Michael?" Sakaki said quietly.

Michael swallowed, "We're being fed a loop," he said softly, "as of about thirty seconds ago."

Karasuma felt her heart skip a beat. For a moment, there was a buzzing in her ears, as the implications set in. She focused her eyes to focus, locking gazes with Sakaki, and finding the same epiphany in him. "Haruto…" she whispered, dread choking her.

Michael looked from Karasuma to Sakaki, suddenly feeling a drastic change in the dynamic between them. Where before they had simply been in the same room, now it seemed as if they were the only two in the room. It was like he wasn't there, and he felt as though he were intruding on something incredibly intimate between them, though they both looked terrified.

But before he had much of a chance to analyze anything, such as _where _that soul-searching gaze had come from, they had both moved. "Hey! Where're you two going!" he said, half rising.

Karasuma looked back at him sadly, "Michael…" she said quietly, but then Sakaki said her name and placed a hand on her arm, glancing back at him with a mix of apology and regret in his eyes. Karasuma turned from the hacker, covering Sakaki's hand with her own and holding a whispered conversation with her partner.

He stopped. Something was wrong. Something was beyond wrong. It was as if they had…expected this. They had both disappeared into the meeting room now; he heard the rasp of drawing guns. They knew something, _but what?_

He didn't have time to contemplate further, because a moment later there was a crash, and the all too familiar sound of spidering glass. Knowing better then to stay standing, he hit the floor; praying that this time, it would be less painful.

"Miho," he whispered as she hesitated, turning to look at Michael. She felt his hand on her arm, and covered it with her own, turning back to the plan that was formulating in her mind. She had to forget about Michael for a moment, and hope that they had not doomed the teen simply by knowing him.

"Haruto, your craft, can you keep water from falling on us?" she asked, leading them to the darkened meeting room. It was eerily quiet, absent of the hum of projectors that usually was to be heard while she was in here.

He gave her a strange look, and nodded, swallowing as she backed them to just inside the door, like school children playing hide and seek.

Karasuma drew her gun; face set and determined. "Then shoot the pipes when they all get into the room, we're bound to hit hot water. It'll be enough of a diversion so we can get out of here." _I hope. _She added in her mind. But there was no need to voice it- she could tell he heard the thought as well.

Sakaki nodded, and she felt his breath on the back of her neck as he crouched down behind her. There could only be a few more seconds before all hell broke loose. It already felt like forever since Michael had told them about the loop, and she knew that waiting for them to set off the explosives to come in would feel like yet another lifetime. It occurred to her that she had no idea what to do after they got out of the building, but she didn't care. One thing at a time; and if they could just get out of the office itself, she was fairly sure they could go the rest of the way…

She felt the change in pressure before she really heard the blast. Suddenly, everything felt pressed, and then released with a shattering of glass and rattling of gun fire. She was glad that they had hidden in here, and prayed the Michael was not still in his chair. She doubted the SOLOMON agents were being very discerning. Feet tromped in, glass shards breaking further under the heavy boots. Karasuma took a breath, trying to wait as long as she could without waiting too long, and then glanced at Sakaki and nodded.

As one, they slid their arms around the corner, shooting the ceiling blindly. Karasuma winced as she heard the pipes pop and rattle, then break, unable to withstand the gunfire. There was the hiss of steam, and then everything seemed to get darker. Then she heard a yelp as hot water began to spray from multiple points in the ceiling, scalding the SOLOMON team.

She knew it wouldn't last long; and silently looked at Sakaki. He nodded and closed his eyes, holding a hand out like something out of an American _Star Wars_ movie. The room was foggy and dark- one of them must have hit an electrical circuit. Water still poured from the ceiling, steaming, but there was a tunnel free of the scalding shower, like a curtain pulled aside just for them. She grabbed Sakaki's hand, leading him out as quickly as she dared.

Despite their professionalism, the officers of SOLOMON could not compete with the simple fact that there was extremely hot water soaking through their suits and burning their skin. Their goggles had fogged over, and no amount of wiping could keep more condensation from appearing on them. She heard one of the men curse as they slipped past him quietly. He seemed to feel their presence, and whirled around, as if expecting an attack. She was thankful that he was not stupid or brave enough to open fire - wary of hitting his fellows.

And then they were out, stepping over the again-ruined doorways, still trying to be quiet. They were nearly past the still-open elevator when a gruff voice called, "Outside! They've gotten out! Go!"

"Haruto," Karasuma whispered, "hit the floor button on the elevator and send it down, but don't go with it."

He did not question her, and slipped into the elevator. She ran ahead, acutely feeling the lack of his body behind her, and, breathless, she came around the corner to stop at the small metal door that led to the stairs. Closing her eyes for a moment, she tried to calm down and remember the sequence of numbers- it felt like years since she had learned them - and then reached out and punched them in.

Sakaki was behind her again, and the door opened. She slid through, pulling him in behind her, and then shut the door firmly, starting down the barren stairwell.

"Miho…how did you…" his voice trailed off when he heard shouting and gunshots. Apparently the soldiers had taken their bait, but it would only be a moment before they saw that there was no one in the elevator and split up to search. They would realize eventually where they had gone.

"Do you remember when they attacked the STN-J six months ago?" she asked, punching in the next set of numbers and opening the door.

There was a pause as they ran down the next set of stairs. "Yes," he said finally, turning hard onto the next landing.

She opened the keypad, tapping the keys with fingers that shook. "As soon as Amon reappeared, I asked him how he had managed to get Robin out."

"And he told you?" Sakaki asked as the door shut behind them, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

She smirked at her partner's skepticism. "Yes, at Harry's," she said, pausing as they reached the next landing. Her fingers found the numbers as if they had known all along she would be doing this one day. Well, she'd suspected ever since Kenshio had pulled her into the coven- but it had always seemed like one of those things that one thought about, and never actually saw happening. As she pulled the door open, there was an explosion, and the stairwell rocked, bits of dust shaking loose from the ceiling.

Karasuma glanced at Sakaki, and he tried to smile at her. "They've got three more doors to go," he said, attempting to sound encouraging.

"We've only got one," she said as she reached the next door. She uttered a humorless 'heh'. "And we've got the codes."

He nodded, and the door opened. They started down the last set of stairs as voices echoed from high above.

When she finished the code to the last door, she could hardly believe that her memory had served correctly. But there it was; the ground level, with the well in the center. She supposed that it had once been a fountain, with water happily bubbling through a gracefully beautiful statue. Or maybe it had been a planter, holding a tree or bunch of flowers. Now, though, it was more useful than that, and she started towards it, even as Sakaki started towards the regular exit.

"Haruto," she said, climbing onto the edge of the well, "here."

He turned as she hit the button, and the bottom of the well sunk, grinding loud enough to raise echoes. She was glad that the team had not had the presence of mind to leave someone at the top to snipe them if they should come down.

Sakaki came to stand beside her on the well's edge, looking down as the floor dropped out to reveal a set of winding stairs. She glanced at him, and he suddenly dipped his head to kiss her, using one hand to support himself with the crossbeam; leaving the other to slide down to the small of her back. It was a brief kiss, but it bolstered her confidence enough to think that maybe, just maybe, they would live to see the sun set.

As the floor of the well settled, he leaned past her, placing his lips close to her ear and softly saying, "I love you. I didn't get a chance to tell you before."

She swallowed and nodded, surprised at her own lack of surprise, both at his words and at her own feelings. "Yes," she said, "I love you, too."

It would have been the perfect time to kiss him again, to tell him how frightened she really was, to just bury herself in his arms, but there was an explosion, this time very close, and Sakaki slid his hand to her arm, helping her down. He turned, and she felt him send his craft at the normal exit, the door breaking and rattling off its hinges with his telekinesis. Then he jumped down beside her as she pressed the button that sent the floor back to its usual place. She slid into the dark staircase, and he followed, their shoes clanging on the metal structure.

The last slip of natural light deserted them, leaving them in a sickly greenish glow, as the SOLOMON team blew the last door in. Karasuma resisted a sigh; they were safe - she hoped. She had been worried, at first, because what if this was the same team that had broken in to the STN-J for the information on Orbo? They may have had the codes on hand if it had been, or if the teams had communicated. But it seemed that she and Sakaki had been saved by departmental strife, because she heard the gruff voice order everyone to spread out in the neighborhood, reminding them to watch out for the man-witch, as his powers could be dangerous.

Karasuma glanced at Sakaki, their suspicions confirmed. They had been labeled witches, the easiest way to gain permission to hunt and kill a SOLOMON hunter. Suddenly, she gasped quietly, drawing a worried look from her partner, sitting on the stairs next to her. "Kenshio," she whispered, "and Single-Eye."

The realization in his eyes was instantaneous, and he leaned down, undoing the laces on his shoes. She slipped her feet from her heels, realizing that it would be quieter in bare feet, especially on the hollow metal. They started down the stairs, winding slowly away from the few voices that remained in the foyer above.

* * *

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Karasuma stopped and pulled out her phone. For a moment, she just looked at it, wary.

"Do you think it's bugged?" Sakaki asked.

She shook her head, frowning, "Not off hand, no. Unless it's been bugged since I started working here; but I've never needed a replacement, so I can't imagine how they could have."

He was silent, letting her make the decision, as he really didn't know what to think. He knew that as soon as they reached a good place outside, he was smashing his own phone and tossing it in the deepest body of water he could find. Miho would probably have to join him, but for now, she dialed the number and held the phone to her ear. In the quiet tunnel, Sakaki could just hear Kenshio's greeting.

"Speak."

"Why weren't you at work?" Karasuma said bluntly. Sakaki admitted mentally that he wanted to know the same thing. It was awfully convenient that she had been gone on the day that SOLOMON decided to attack.

Kenshio paused, as if sensing that something was amiss, and replied, "My alarm clock didn't go off, but I'm on my way now. Why?"

Karasuma glanced at Sakaki, and sighed, "Don't come in," she said, resigned, "They've caught on, get out of here."

There was a brief silence on the line; Sakaki could almost hear the gears in the replacement's head turning as she took this information in. "And you both are fine?"

"Yes," Karasuma said, glancing at Sakaki again, "We got out, and we're safe for now."

"Alright, when you hang up, throw your phone away. Get as much money out of your accounts as you can, in cash, and then get off the island. Don't go home, leave your cars."

"What about you? How can we keep in contact?"

"Don't worry about that," Kenshio said briskly, "I'll be able to find you." She paused, and a note of worry and care made its way into her voice, "Just focus on keeping yourselves alive until I do."

Karasuma took a deep breath, and nodded, though for whose benefit, Sakaki wasn't sure. "Alright," she said, "We will."

"Lady Luck and the Eve be with you." Kenshio said quietly after a pause, and the line went dead.

Karasuma hung up her own phone, looking at it oddly. "Lady Luck and the Eve?" she said softly, looking at Sakaki.

He shrugged, "I've never heard her use it," he said. "It's probably a coven thing."

Karasuma looked thoughtful; tapping the phone to her chin, "I think…" she started, and then shook her head, "Never mind."

Sakaki shrugged, deciding that it wasn't worth it to push her. "So, do you know how far this passageway goes?"

She looked down the tunnel, a long, dark stretch of concrete, studded with green glowing lights that seemed to bode ill. "No, I didn't bother to ask."

She was staring gloomily forward when he put a hand on her shoulder, smiling ironically. "Given the circumstances, and the one you were asking, I can't say that I blame you."

She gave a small smile in return, reaching up to rub her eyes. "He isn't that bad," she said, amused in spite of the situation.

Sakaki slid an arm around her waist, kissing her temple, "Sure he isn't. Just so long as you don't breathe wrong at him."

Karasuma didn't bother to reply, suddenly too tired to concentrate on anything but putting one foot in front of the other. She had only been up for about two hours, but it felt like a day and then some. But they needed to move. Trying not to think about it, she kept walking.

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Even before she had reached the small apartment that he kept, she knew what she would find.

Thus, it was no surprise that when she got there, his apartment was vacant, empty, and completely unchanged.

He simply wasn't there any more. Everything was perfectly in place, no paper smashed from heavy feet, no bullet hole.

Well, that was no surprise. SOLOMON agents were the best, and he had most likely been unprepared.

They would have come in the door; shot him with a low velocity bullet that did not punch through and leave a blood trail, taken his body, and left.

She stepped further into the tiny living space, inspecting the main room with dead eyes. It was somewhat messy, but what had she expected? He had lived as a hobo for most of his life – suddenly having a space to keep clean must have been difficult. She glanced to the door to his room, and narrowed her eyes. She saw tiny scratches at neck level, and, pushing the door open, she found his bedroom, unkempt as the rest of the flat. Tucked most of the way under the sheet was a sheet of paper, a small corner sticking out. She picked it up.

_Well, Kasu, I tried._

One line, scrawled messily across the middle of the square piece of paper. She stared at it for a moment, then, keeping the note, she went back to the door. The scratches, when she looked closer, were actually small streaks of dried blood. Shot from the side, low velocity bullet, point blank to the temple.

Something dripped down her cheek, and she touched her face. Tears. She smiled sardonically.

"So did I," she said to the still air in the apartment, and walked out the door, closing it behind her. No one would realize that the former resident was dead; they would chalk it up to another down and out ducking their rent. They would paint over the door, covering the scratches that were actually blood.

Kasu Kenshio folded up the last communication with her partner of four months and stuck it in her coat pocket, face dry as she walked down the steps to her car.

* * *

Michael Lee was tired. _'What a day,' _he thought as he pushed open the door to the small apartment that had been given to him at Raven's Flat. He stared around numbly. It had only been three hours since he'd left the place, and he was already quite willing to crawl back into bed and fall asleep.

Of course, considering the day he'd had, the nap would end in nightmares.

It had been a good thing that he'd rolled under his workstation, he decided, rubbing his arm, otherwise he would have been scalded all over, rather then just the line down his side. His work computer was mostly in ruins from the water, but everything had been backed up on the network and the laptop he had bought a month after the Factory.

His eyes caught the laptop now, looking at it for a moment and weighing his options. He had been questioned for a half an hour, SOLOMON special ops members trying to get something out of him to help them find Karasuma and Sakaki. He had told them that he had no idea where they would go. That was the truth. He felt like he'd missed something when the two hunters had reacted so strongly to his announcement about the loop. Now he felt like a chunk of code had been taken out of his life, a chunk of code that redefined his co-workers completely.

But despite the fact that he now knew that Karasuma and Sakaki had not been the people he thought they were, he did remember one thing clearly about the moments before the attack. Karasuma, sadly saying his name, and Sakaki's face both rang clearly in his mind. They may have had different goals, but they had not wanted him hurt, had not wanted to leave him.

Mind made up, he opened his laptop, pressing the power button and sitting down in his chair. There had been one thing that he had told the man questioning him that was a lie. He did know how they got out.

As he booted up his network connection for the building, he hoped that the special ops team hadn't had the same idea as him. If the loop that had been fed to the STN-J was remote, it probably would have stopped when the circuit was shot. The power would have been restored automatically everywhere that it could go; which meant that the security cameras had essentially been rebooted.

He nodded when he found it, unsurprised. Filename: CameraC-8:23AM-9:23AM. The cameras archived their information once an hour, and this was about the right time. He opened the file.

For a about three minutes, there was nothing. The well stood alone in the middle of the empty room as the picture panned. Then Karasuma appeared, Sakaki going around her as she stepped onto the low wall. Sakaki stopped, it looked as if Karasuma had said something, and came back to join her on the wall. They paused for a moment, both looking down as the floor dropped from beneath them.

Then, as he watched, Sakaki leaned over and kissed Karasuma straight on the lips. Michael blinked. _Partners indeed, _he thought, dazed. Sakaki whispered something to her, to which she nodded, and they both disappeared down the well.

Michael paused the tape, sitting back. So. He hadn't been imagining things when he'd felt like the third wheel earlier. Suddenly, he smiled. He could never tell anyone, of course, but now he was glad that he had forgone sleep. Here was a bright point in all of the darkness ahead. The office was trashed, his arm burned, and at some point in the near future, there was going to be a flat full of new hunters to get used to.

But they were alive, and they were together.

A touch of a smile still on his face, Michael created his own loop and rewrote the file, changing the times and erasing the evidence of his hack. Turn about was fair play, after all, especially when it involved two of the few people that he would consider calling friends. When he was done, he shut the computer down and shuffled off to bed, no longer worried about nightmares.

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**Two things.**

**#1: OMFG I KILLED HIM! **

**#2: …I KILLED HIM:sobbity:**

**Thanks to Harry's (I didn't put that in some chapter here…and I meant to)**

**And MY REVIEWERS.**** OMG YOU ALL ROCK THE FREAKING HOUSE!11! (omgwtfbbq!)**

**Erm**** Yes. I hope that's all.**


	12. Been a Long Time

**Darn. My Friday night fanfic has been disrupted. Stupid finals, choir concerts, and other things. glower**

**But, you all get a long chapter for it! **

**NOTE: This chapter has a few… questionable bits near the end (language and what have you), and if you find it disturbing or anything, just tell me to up the rating rather than reporting me. I don't think it's that bad, but may as well put a disclaimer up.**

**Have at it, folks.

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**

It was a long time before Sakaki finally noticed that the tunnel was sloping upwards. They had been walking for about an hour, and had traveled two to three miles at his best guess. From the smell, he figured that the passageway ran parallel to a sewer, and he had started to wonder whether they would have to slop through water and waste to get out. But soon the air grew cleaner, and the floor tilted to slowly bring them back to ground level.

As they continued, Sakaki glanced down at the woman still in his arms. She had brought her arms to her chest and was leaned against him, walking by his lead with her eyes closed, looking completely spent. There was no doubt in his mind that if it had not been for her, they would have both been dead. Granted, there had been a lot of pure and simple luck involved as well, a fact which made him wonder whether he should begin believing in some sort of deity, but Miho's calm and collected escape plan had also done more than its share.

He glanced ahead, and abruptly stopped. The jar in their rhythm seemingly woke Karasuma, and she stood up, taking what little weight she had leaned on him with her. They both stared at the sudden end to the tunnel; a venting screen looking in on… something. There was defiantly a faint light on the other side of the screen; a different light than the moldy lamps in the tunnel. Just the thought of getting out of the confines of the passageway was enough to convince him, but he held back, unsure.

"Do you think we should go now, or wait?" he asked quietly.

Karasuma rubbed her eyes, still looking worn. "What time is it?"

He checked his watch, glad that he had put it on instead of relying on his phone. "About nine thirty. We've probably walked a few miles from the flat."

She sighed. "We need to keep moving. Much as I'd like to just stay here, I don't trust our phones, and I want to be off the island as soon as possible."

"We can trash the phones as soon as we get out," Sakaki said, "and if we get the money out now, they won't have time to freeze our accounts."

She frowned, "Can they do that?"

"I don't know," Sakaki said honestly, "but I'm fairly certain that if they contact the police, they could get them to do it."

Karasuma nodded, "And with Kosaka's connection to the force, it probably wouldn't be difficult to communicate with them."

"Do you think he'd do that?" Sakaki asked in surprise.

"Honestly, no," Karasuma replied, "but…"

"It's SOLOMON," Sakaki finished for her, "you're right."

They stood in silence for a moment. Finally, Sakaki reached out and experimentally nudged the screen. It swung forward, and then clapped back into place when he withdrew his hand. He glanced at Karasuma, who shrugged.

"I guess we should go," she said.

He nodded, and then paused. This was probably going to be the last quiet moment he would have alone with her for awhile; quite possibly for the rest of either of their lives.

"I meant it," he said softly as she walked past him to crawl through.

She paused, peering at him over her shoulder through the gloom. "I know," she replied. Her next words were to the floor, whispered as if holding back tears, "So did I." She glanced up, catching his eyes and holding them.

He didn't even remember whether it was he that went to her; or she that went to him; or if they both met in the middle, but suddenly he was kissing her. Her hands were buried in his hair, sometimes trailing back to his face as if to make sure that it was really him. With no where else to put them, his arms went around her waist, fingers smoothing the back of her blazer. The fevered quality to their kisses told him that she was also quite aware that this was probably their last moment alone together for a long while, and when they broke for air, he leaned past her lips and placed a row of kisses down her neck.

She did not protest, gasping when he trailed back up to the sensitive skin just below her ear. "Haruto…" she whispered with the exhalation, and he heard a note of pleading in her voice, begging him to return to her lips. He did so gladly.

After a moment, she took his face in her hands, placing soft lips against his clammy forehead, down the bridge of his nose, across one eye, and then the other. Her lips drifted down to the tip of his nose, then just above his lips, and before she could tease anymore, he leaned forward and kissed her deeply. He was vaguely aware of her hands on his chest, one hand splayed and the other twisted in his t-shirt. When he thought about where his own hands were, he realized that they were still on her waist, but had drifted between her shirt and suit jacket, gripping somewhat tighter then was probably comfortable.

They broke apart, panting as quietly as they could. He searched her eyes, and realized that she felt the same as he did. For once, mere kissing had almost not been enough.

She buried her head in his shoulder, and he sighed, pressing his lips to her hair in comfort. Their heartbeats slowed. He savored the quiet, closing his eyes and committing the way she felt, her scent, the feel of her hair, everything that he could to memory. Taking a deep breath, she looked up at him. Planting a chaste kiss on her lips, he let her go. She smiled at him, and he smiled in return. The screen was pushed open, and Karasuma indicated for him to wait. Sakaki watched her go, feeling somewhat incomplete after having her in his arms for so long, but shook his head. Just having her near would do for awhile. It would have to.

* * *

"Haruto," Karasuma hissed through the screen. He pushed through, standing up in the cramped space. The screen banged down, making them both wince. He twisted, looking around.

"Miho…are we…?"

She shrugged, the soft white light coming from under the door barely illuminating her face. "A supply closet? I think so."

He chuckled. The small room smelled slightly of cleaning supplies, he could just make out jugs and cans of various solvents lining the walls. A broom and mop stood in the corner. There was a pause, and he reached out to the door handle. As he did, the door swung open; to reveal a stout, older woman peering at them with her hands on her hips.

"I thought so!" she cried triumphantly. Sakaki felt a thrill of fear course through him, at first thinking that she was somehow connected to SOLOMON. But then the woman continued, saying, "Kids these days, I swear! You'd think you could find somewhere other than a supply closet to play out your fantasies!"

For a moment, all Sakaki could do was stare at the woman in front of them. Ex-witch hunters, having just run for their lives from the organization they had betrayed, and now they were being accused of playing 'seven minutes in heaven'? He looked down at Karasuma, who was, either out of real modesty or fake embarrassment, looking at the floor and blushing. He smiled at the sight, remembering his name on her lips. Well, the lady was half-right. "Er…" he started, "Sorry bout this," he continued lamely, thinking that continuing on her path of thought would be easier then trying to tell her something different. Besides; SOLOMON wouldn't think twice if they heard about a teenage couple making out in a closet.

Another person, this time a boy around fifteen, laughed from behind the woman. "Don't apologize, bud, we know you ain't sorry." He gave Karasuma an appreciative glance, and then shook his head at the matronly woman who still stood seething at them. "Besides, she don't remember what it's like to be young no more."

The woman shot the boy a glare. "Ani, get back to the register," she said sternly, and then turned back to them, "As for you two; if you get out of here now, I won't do anything. But I don't want to see you back here again; use someone else's closet next time. Better yet, get a room."

Trying to look properly humiliated, Sakaki and Karasuma nodded graciously and shuffled from the store, uncomfortably aware of the openness of the street. The work day was still in full swing, and the streets were practically empty – Sakaki guessed they wouldn't fill again until the lunch hour.

"I think we should wait until lunch rush and get on the subway," Karasuma said.

Sakaki nodded, "Should we get our money first?"

"I don't know. If they've put a track on our accounts, then they'll know as soon as we withdraw money. But if we don't get it soon, we might not get it at all."

"Well. We won't get anywhere without the money."

She sighed, shaking her head. "Exactly. I'm just not sure which is more of a risk."

He absently nodded, staring down the road. A limo had pulled up to the hotel that stood there, the driver getting out and opening the door. A woman stepped out, stood up, and looked around, her cream fur coat covering every inch of her save for the heel-clad feet. He stared…something about that coat.

"Nagira," he said finally.

"Pardon?" Karasuma asked, puzzled.

He turned back to her, excited, "Nagira, Amon's half brother, he'll help us."

Her mouth hung open for a second, still catching up with his train of thought, and then she smiled. "Of course. I had completely forgotten about him."

Sakaki nodded. "Me too." He chuckled, "It's a wonder we haven't run into him before."

"I hope he's ok," Karasuma said with a frown, "SOLOMON promised they wouldn't hold the factory against us, but if they found out about Nagira…"

Sakaki snorted, "Don't worry, he's fine."

"How do you know?"

He smiled, leading to a bus stop where two women stood happily chattering. "Doujima was having a rather…involved conversation with him just before she left. I'm fairly certain she convinced them to let him alone."

Karasuma blinked, trying to incorporate this information into what she knew of the spy. Somehow, it didn't surprise her in the least that the younger woman had gotten involved with the lawyer. "I suppose if I had thought about it, I would have realized that," she said.

Sakaki shrugged, the bus pulling up to them and stopping. They boarded, both automatically checking the other people on the bus for signs of SOLOMON agents as they paid. Karasuma was silent during the ride, knowing that Sakaki would know how to get to Nagira Law Offices better then she – he had stayed there for three days. She closed her eyes, forcing thoughts of her own three days from her mind. She had shed those demons when she had joined the coven, when she had renounced hunting. It could remain a bad memory now.

The bus halted, and she felt Sakaki move. They got off, leaving the two women from the stop still talking, and stepped onto the street.

"This way," Sakaki said, nodding in the direction of a complex of buildings. Karasuma could just make out a slogan or name of some sort painted on the large window of one of the structures. As they came closer, she realized that it was an advertisement for Nagira Law offices. Up a set of well-kept cement stairs, and into a door painted with the same logo as the office windows. They were in a drab office, with three desks, a couch and a coffee table. Two of the desks were occupied, one with a small, sniveling man who stared unabashedly, and one with a blonde woman who had her back to them. She did not seem to realize that there were two of them, and from what little Karasuma could garner from the woman's speech, she assumed that the secretary thought that they were Nagira.

"So you finally decided to show up, eh? Well, it's about time! I've had three clients call, asking to speak with you personally, and do you know…" she stood up and turned around, taking a breath to continue. But when she realized that it was not Nagira that she was talking to, she trailed off, and immediately frowned upon setting her eyes on Sakaki. "Oh. It's _you _again."

Sakaki sighed, "Yes. I need to speak with Nagira."

Hanamura Mika surveyed Sakaki for a moment without speaking, then 'hmphed' and turned her nose up at him. "Well, if you can get a hold of him and get him _in_, then you're perfectly welcome to speak to him. I haven't seen the man in a week, except for the occasional pop into the office to bum a cigarette off of him." She nodded to the small man in the corner, who shrugged and stooped back to his computer.

"Shit," Sakaki said under his breath.

"Is there any way we can reach him?" Karasuma asked, mentally echoing Sakaki's sentiment.

Hanamura sniffed. "You could try his phone, but I doubt he'll answer. Those pachinko machines he's always hanging around are loud enough to wake the dead!" She shot Sakaki a glare, "And if you're wanting to stay here again, and with _another _girlfriend," Karasuma glanced at Sakaki curiously, to which he shrugged, silently mouthing 'Robin' to her. She nodded, understanding. "…_with _you, no less, then you can just forget it! I'll just bet you got into some kind of trouble with the police, and now you're running to Mr. Nagira for help! Well I'll tell you…"

The door swung open, startling the two ex-hunters enough to step into shooting stance with their hands half-way into their coats. But as an aging white coat came into view, they both relaxed. Syunji Nagira stepped into the office, brow furrowing when he saw Sakaki and Karasuma.

"Huh," he mumbled, "guess the bastard was right."

Hanamura gazed at her boss with her jaw slack. "Mr. Nagira! Where have you been?" she said, rather too loudly then was necessary, "Are you quite ready to get some work done? That client from last week called, he said he really needed to talk to … Mr. Nagira?"

"Hold my calls, Mika," Nagira said as he waved for them to go with him.

Karasuma followed Nagira into a larger room near the back as Mika sat down again, looking miffed but not particularly surprised. When they were all inside, Nagira shut the door and looked at the two of them closely.

"So," he said friendlily, "you two want to tell me why two're such hot property today? Word on the street is both the police _and _SOLOMON are looking for you."

Sakaki winced, though Karasuma didn't seem to bat an eye as she explained. "We betrayed SOLOMON. Both of us. We've been awakening witches, and then teaching them to control their power. As far as SOLOMON is concerned, we're as bad as rouge witches ourselves."

For a moment, Nagira just stared at them. "So…you've been awakening witches?" he said slowly.

Karasuma nodded. "Yes."

"You know the coven that's been spreading through Japan."

"Yes."

"And," he shook his head in what looked like amazement, "unless I miss my guess, you've been _leading _the coven that's been spreading through Japan."

Karasuma swallowed, when someone else said it, it sounded much more… important. She had simply been following her instincts, and Kenshio's orders. "I suppose you could say that, though we weren't the actual leaders," she said quietly.

There was a pause, and then Nagira began to laugh, the sounds echoing off the cement walls of the chamber. Karasuma and Sakaki shared a confused glance as Nagira struggled to regain control of himself. "Do you two have _any _idea how long I've been trying to figure out who you were?" he asked, wiping away tears of mirth.

They looked at each other, and then shook their heads.

Nagira chuckled again, "Damn, it's probably been two months now." He ran a hand through his hair, "and all along, here I was thinking you guys were nothing but a couple of hunters."

"We were, for one of those months," Sakaki said.

Nagira sobered, noticing their strained and haggard faces. They had been through hell even before he met them, gone through a different hell while acquainted with them, and now, here was yet another trial. He sneered internally; SOLOMON didn't seem to have the capacity to do anything but mess up lives – first his brother's, then Robin's, now these two. "Well, it doesn't matter now. You need to get out?"

The relief on both of their faces was almost worth the trouble he would certainly go through to help them.

* * *

"And our money? Will we be able to get it?"

Nagira nodded from the front seat of his car, "Yeah. They can put a track on your account, but they can't freeze it until they've got you." He snorted, "Rather, they _won't _freeze it till they've got you. It's the easiest mistake – since almost everyone is caught without any cash."

Karasuma nodded and settled into the back seat, shifting in the odd clothing that Nagira had given her. After agreeing to help them, Nagira had given them some food and ordered them to stay put for an hour while he got some things ready. Karasuma had assumed that he was going to reserve a hotel room for them. He had done that, as well as going…somewhere, and getting them new clothes. She had no idea how the lawyer had managed to get her size right, but considering his 'other job', she shouldn't have been surprised. He had probably done this kind of thing for a lot of people.

It wasn't that the clothing was odd, or bad, particularly, just…very different. She was used to black and white or pastel professional, always dressing like a woman at least twice her real age. Now she was wearing a floral patterned dress that came to a hands length above her knee, and she felt very out of place – though Nagira assured her that this was the style among teens. Not only was the length different, but the spaghetti-straps that kept it on her shoulders were strange. She had not bared this much skin in at least seven years, if not a decade. Seeming to know that it was making her uncomfortable, Sakaki had slipped her an overlarge button down shirt. It was a strange looking combination, but Nagira had not commented, and she felt somewhat more comfortable with it on.

She glanced at Sakaki, suppressing a small smile. The idea, Nagira had told them, was to make them look as different from their normal selves as possible. For Karasuma, it meant shorter hemlines and less fabric. If they had needed an exact opposite of Sakaki, they would have dressed him in the most professional clothes they could. But since she and Sakaki would be traveling together, they had to complement each other. So, the lawyer had come back with shorts a size too big, plaid boxers, and a black tee-shirt with one of the newer band logos splashed across the front. It was _very _different, she thought, he looked like a high school kid skipping school.

Then again, so did she, probably.

"You all right back there?" she heard Nagira ask, and looked up to find him peering at her in the rear-view mirror.

"I think so," she said, turning back to the window.

"Good," the lawyer said, looking back at the road. At some point, they had gotten out of Tokyo, driving towards the middle of the island. Karasuma wondered where they were going, and as if reading her thoughts, Nagira said, "We're going to Saitama for your money. Then an about-face to Osaka for a night, Hiroshima tomorrow, and I'll get you on a bus to Fukuoka the next day," he paused, "You two didn't say anything about wanting to bug out of the country, but the airport in Fukuoka can get you to the mainland, and they can get you anywhere else."

"We don't have passports." Sakaki said glumly, "and I'm not sure we should go, even if we somehow could."

Karasuma nodded in agreement; Kenshio had said that she could find them, but she had also said to get off the island, not out of the country.

"Why not? I could get you fake ones without too much trouble – especially if you don't want to go to the states."

"I think the international flights are the first thing they'll check," Sakaki said, "And…"

He stopped, glancing at Karasuma. Nagira caught the glance and grunted. "Lemme guess. Somebody told you guys to stay in Japan."

They nodded.

The lawyer sighed from the wheel, "Well, can't argue with that."

The car continued down the highway.

* * *

It was 3:30 when they pulled up to Karasuma's bank. They had already passed Sakaki's, deciding that since they were simply turning around, they should go to his on their way out. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably. _She just went in_, he told himself sternly, _she can take care of herself, stop worrying._

"If she's withdrawing more than one hundred thousand Yen, they'll probably have some paper work," Nagira said off handedly. Sakaki wondered if the lawyer noticed his agitation, deciding eventually that there was hardly a way he could miss it. There were another few moments of silence.

"So, how did you two get out?" Nagira asked, observing as the teen in the passenger's seat shifted yet again.

"Luck," Sakaki replied, "And Miho knew the way out."

Nagira nodded, noting that Sakaki had said the woman's given name. That in itself really wasn't all that surprising, Robin had told him that the two had been partners at the STN-J for a year when he had asked who they were going after. But something in the _way_ Sakaki had said it suggested that she was more than a partner.

Then, that was evident from their actions, too. He knew that most people wouldn't have noticed anything besides their nervousness about suddenly being wanted people, but people who were just partners didn't have conversations in a glance, didn't say each other's first names with such complete familiarity, and they definitely didn't drop their jaws to the floor with a change in outfit.

Granted, Sakaki had most certainly had a good reason for the loss of his jaw- Nagira had had nearly the same reaction. Karasuma had a body to rival anyone's - with the possible exception of Doujima - but that was his personal opinion. He mentally patted himself on the back for the outfit. There were times he loved his second job for less-then-honorable reasons.

* * *

They made it out of Saitama with little trouble, as Nagira had promised. Steering clear of Tokyo, they made their way down to Osaka, stopping once for gas and once for Nagira. 

It was later at night, nearly ten, when he pulled the car off of the expressway. Both Karasuma and Sakaki were still awake, lost in their thoughts as they watched the lights on the road. He shrugged at their questioning glances.

"Figured you two don't want smoke in your faces," he grunted, and got out.

Wordlessly, they glanced at each other and followed suit, getting out and both walking a little away from the light that the car was parked under.

"You alright?" Sakaki asked her quietly.

She paused before answering, not sure of the answer herself. "I'm…still trying to catch up with what's happened," she said slowly, "it's like someone sped life up."

Sakaki smiled, shoving his hand in the pockets of his shorts. It was chilly and moist, the air charged with the onset of a storm. "Yeah," he said, "I feel a bit that way myself." He glanced at her, and was forced to catch his breath. She was standing a little away from him, arms wrapped around herself; covered primarily in the white business shirt he'd given her earlier. She looked cold, uncomfortable with the dress, uprooted, and somewhat tired, but in spite of all of that, she was smiling slightly.

"Do you think Michael's ok?" she asked.

"Of course. He's been through worse. I'm pretty sure he rolled under the desk before we hit the pipes."

"We left him, you know. He's the only one left."

He reached out and drew her to him, wanting not only to comfort her, but himself. "Yeah. But he's Michael – he'll understand," he murmured, settling his arms around her shoulders to warm her.

"I know," she said quietly into his shirt, "But it doesn't seem fair that he's been left all alone."

"He doesn't have a collar any more," Sakaki reminded her, "Maybe he'll leave."

She chuckled lightly. "He _loves _that job, though. You know how much he loves the computers and finding information."

"That settles it, then," Sakaki said into her hair, "if he's mad about anything, it because we ruined his work computer."

She didn't say anything, but he could feel her smile as she leaned into him. He smiled to himself. By all rights, he should be miserable. He'd been forced out of Tokyo, left his friends, his home, his job. But, as far as he was concerned, she was here, and that was all that really mattered.

There was a cough behind them. "Nothing like a smoke," Nagira said a little too loudly from the car. Karasuma looked up, a trace of a laugh in her eyes.

"I think he's _embarrassed," _she said quietly.

Sakaki smiled back for a moment, leaned down, and softly pressed his lips to hers. He drew back, practically grinning. "If I can deal with listening to him and Doujima, he can deal with us." His face became decidedly wicked, "and I can assure you, this's been _peanuts _compared to that."

She was momentarily seized with the notion to offer to match it, remembering the sheer pleasure she'd felt with him in the tunnel, and then shook her head, smiling. They needed to go, anyway – the longer they stayed here, the longer it was until they got to the hotel, and she was tired. "If he's done, we should probably go."

Sakaki nodded, and released one arm, keeping the other around her waist. When they got to the car, he paused momentarily, having an internal argument. Habit dictated that he should get in the front seat and continue to pretend that they were only partners in the business sense. Comfort and a certain measure of loneliness demanded that he get in the back seat with Karasuma.

The front seat didn't have a chance in hell, as far as he was concerned. Nagira had figured it out anyway, and now the only people they really had to keep that bit of information from was SOLOMON. He pulled open the back door, ignoring Nagira's surprised glance, and slid into the leather back seat. The look of gratitude on Karasuma's face was worth more than the lawyer's peace of mind. He smiled, "Hi."

She returned the smile as Nagira got in and started the car, pulling back onto the highway, "Hello."

Without another word, he turned so that she could use him as a pillow, which she did. Wrapping one arm around her, he took her hand, lacing their fingers. She closed her eyes, curling her head into the base of his neck. Moments later, he suspected that she had fallen asleep. He felt strangely honored that she trusted him enough to sleep against him – it was the most vulnerable position a person could be in, and she was not one for vulnerability. But then, neither was he, really, and here he was, closing his eyes and drifting off. The last thing he remembered was the feeling of her hand in his.

* * *

An hour later, Nagira glanced back through the rearview mirror. God, he thought to himself, they were just so…cute.

It irked him, somewhat, though he couldn't really begrudge them the one happiness they had. It was probably because he had never seen two people so suited to each other and so comfortable with that match. He couldn't compare them to Amon and Robin; last he'd heard, his brother had still been an emotionally fucked up asshole in love with a pure and gracious girl that he didn't feel he deserved. Quite frankly, Nagira wasn't sure if he did deserve her, but it was Robin's choice, ultimately. The only other relationship he could really try to compare it to was he and Doujima – and that was simply out of the question.

He would be the first to admit that with Doujima, it was first and foremost about the sex. Lust had been principal, and everything else had taken a back seat. It hadn't been until she left that they'd realized there was an… attachment there. They _were _well suited to each other, with cynically sarcastic senses of humor and a talent for banter… but then there was the matter of their respective jobs. It was a subject they had avoided at all costs, and sex had been a good way to do it.

Damned if he wasn't fairly certain that had she been anything else – even just a hunter like Amon – he would have fallen for her.

But it was like screwing the enemy – he chuckled darkly to himself - literally. She was a spy; he was a spy for the other team. They had their loyalties, and life was not a James Bond movie, where the lady spy eventually pulled a fast on her own organization and ran off with the dashing hero. Doujima had always made it clear that she wasn't going to jump sides, and she knew he wouldn't, either.

They had just been stuck on opposite sides.

Fuck, he needed a drink. A sign by the side of the road proclaimed Osaka to be 30 kilometers away. The hotel would have a bar, undoubtedly. He'd been working on forgetting her, but with these two around it wouldn't be possible.

* * *

It was midnight when they finally got to the hotel. Nagira pulled into a parking space and turned around, somewhat dreading the idea of waking them up, but found it wasn't necessary. Karasuma had opened her eyes and was watching him intently. "We're here," he said unnecessarily, feeling like he had to say something under the woman's cool gaze. He didn't like being an open book, and the way she looked at him, half pity, half sympathy, made him feel like she knew exactly what he'd been dwelling on for the last hour.

Instead of letting himself talk further, he got out.

Karasuma looked after him for a moment, trying to put a name to what she had seen on his face. He had seemed sad when she woke to the engine being killed. Not angry, really, just resignedly sad. Not sure why, but feeling as if she didn't really want to know, she carefully sat up and turned to Sakaki, still asleep.

"Haruto," she said quietly, disengaging her hand from his and sweeping it across his forehead. He opened his eyes when her hand settled in his hair.

"We're there?" he asked without preamble. She nodded. He stretched slightly and then pushed the door open. Nagira waited near the front of the car, three backpacks in his hand. Two he gave to Sakaki, indicating that he give one to Karasuma, the other he kept for himself. Without a word, the lawyer turned, ambling into the hotel and up to the desk. A sleepy receptionist asked his name and if he had a reservation. Karasuma stopped paying attention to the conversation, trying to gauge the contents of her backpack instead. She could feel a toothbrush, and at least one set of clothes. She suspected there was a hair brush, but couldn't confirm it, because Nagira turned around and shoved a key into her hand.

"Here," he said, voice gruff, "Your room is number 215." He glanced at Sakaki's worried face and gave them both a smirk. "Tonight and tomorrow's my treat. We should leave fairly early in the morning, around nine o'clock. Try to relax," he said, "They weren't expecting you to have a ride out, and their last record of you is in Saitama."

Karasuma nodded, bowing slightly. "Thank you, Nagira."

He gave them both a long gaze, and for a moment Karasuma thought she saw that same sadness that she had seen upon waking not twenty minutes ago. Then he blinked and chuckled, dispelling the haze around him. "Don't worry about it. It's what I do, remember?"

She nodded and headed for the stairs with Sakaki.

Nagira watched them go with a heavy heart. "Don't wake the neighbors," he muttered to their retreating backs. Then he turned, intent on finding the nearest bar.

* * *

The extra pair of clothes she had felt turned out to be night clothes. They were plain, but comfortable, if a little big. She suspected he had gotten 'one size fits most' to cut down on complications. When she got out of the bathroom from changing, she looked in her bag further, confirming the toothbrush, toothpaste and hair brush. There was also a first aid kit, a sewing kit, a calling card, and, to her surprise, a fake ID without a picture. Looking closer, she frowned. _Souta Mayou. _But that was a man's name, she thought to herself in confusion.

Just as the thought went through her mind, Haruto came out, his face a little red. "Ah…Miho," he started, and held up the bag, "I think I may have gotten the bags mixed."

Karasuma stood and looked in; covering a smile when she realized that there was a box of tampons in the bottom of the bag. She took the bag, handing him his and saying, "He thinks of everything."

"Yes, he does," Sakaki said, and they abruptly fell into silence.

_Well, this is uncomfortable, _Karasuma heard herself think as she sat on the bed. What to do now? Offer to sleep on the floor? That was ridiculous beyond measure; neither of them should have to sleep on the floor. Say something? But what to say? Embarrassed, and slightly angry at herself for it, she turned and got under the covers. Sakaki didn't say anything, which relieved and frightened her at the same time. She didn't _want _to sleep alone; but she just wasn't sure what Sakaki thought about it.

He apparently shared her sentiments, because she felt the bed tilt and the covers move as he sat down. The light went out, and he lay down, stilling after a short time. She tried to go to sleep, but somehow she had ended up facing away from him, and sleeping in the car had refreshed her enough that lying down felt good, but closing her eyes was harder then usual. Trying to be careful, she turned over, but misjudged Sakaki's placement, and accidentally kicked him. She gasped, turning over the rest of the way to face him.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, "It's been a long time since I slept in a bed with anyone else." She winced, wondering how he would take the explanation.

He smiled, shaking his head against the pillow. "It's all right," he said, "me too."

She paused, and, facing him, felt herself relaxing. They'd come this far, what was the use of being bashful now, honestly? "I used to crawl into bed with my parents when I was young," she said, "I would have horrible nightmares and felt better sleeping with them."

"Do you think it was your craft?" he asked, genuinely interested.

She shrugged, a difficult gesture when lying on her side, "I guess it could have been a precursor. I didn't awaken until I was twelve, though, and the nightmares were worst when I was nine or so."

"You were twelve?" he asked, sounding surprised, and she nodded. "I was fourteen by the time I awakened."

She blinked. "How did you get through your training so fast?" she asked. Training to be a hunter took about three years, and Sakaki had been a hunter for half a year when he came to the STN-J at seventeen. The math just didn't work out.

Sakaki frowned, "My dad was a hunter for SOLOMON, and moved up a little after I turned seven. Both he and mom were craft-users. I was lined up for training and an inquisition practically the day I was born."

Karasuma supposed the information wasn't all that surprising; a lot of hunters came from a background of hunters. "So you…"

"Betrayed my parents as well as SOLOMON?" Sakaki finished for her, knowing that she was too kind to say the words herself. She nodded, and he sighed. "Not really. My parents were affectionate, but never terribly loving. Mom died of cancer when I was in training, and even before I moved here I had pretty much stopped talking to dad." He shrugged, "I guess I preferred the ideal I had of him rather than the real thing."

"I'm sorry; you probably didn't want to talk about it."

"It's ok," he said, reaching out to pull her closer, "It's not like I want to hide from you."

Karasuma smiled and shifted so her head was turned against his shoulder, face towards him so she could speak. "My parents were normal. I didn't even know witches or hunters existed until I became one." She paused, remembering her first day as a witch. "It wasn't big at first. I thought it was just my imagination. My friends said I'd just…stopped, and I knew that the pencil I was holding belonged to the girl two classrooms over, and that she didn't like her teacher. Then I knew where my book had been for the last two days, and when I touched the teacher's desk I knew he'd been fantasizing about the principal." She closed her eyes, "it just kept going, until I bumped into a boy from an upper level a week later. He was on his way to kill himself, and I knew that without even knowing his name."

"Did he?"

"What?" she asked, opening her eyes and looking at him.

"Did he kill himself?"

She closed her eyes again, settling back. "No. But I still remember exactly the way it felt in his head. Later that day I was hunted, but I guess SOLOMON thought my power would be useful."

"What about your parents?" Sakaki asked. Karasuma opened her eyes, and he immediately wondered if the question had been wise. Obviously she had been taken out of her home when she was young – her parents were probably a sore spot in her past.

"I don't know, honestly." Karasuma said after a pause. "I read the police record on my disappearance once. It wasn't anything special. I just didn't come home from school. They're probably all right; neither of them were seeds or witches. I think I inherited my power from one of my grandparents."

He wondered how she could tell him this dry eyed, and asked.

She smiled. "I cried enough for them. When I came to the STN-J, I decided that I wasn't going to regret things in my life that I had no control over."

She watched Sakaki think her words over, and then he smiled down at her. "I guess I said the same thing."

This time, when the conversation dwindled, it was natural, and neither of them bothered to break the silence. Karasuma realized as she drifted to sleep that she had found out more about Sakaki in twenty minutes than she had in their near year and a half of working together. She smiled and found his hand, draped across her stomach, working her fingers in with his, and then allowed herself to fall asleep.

* * *

**Fwee. A Long and Long-winded chapter. I do apologize if this seems more… rambling than usual. **

**To D/N fans (including myself) – gees, I'm sorry, Nagira totally wasn't supposed to be that depressing. He just came out that way, and it fit well, so…yeah. :weep:**

**To Everybody Reviewing: HOLY CRAP. YOU ROCK. ALL OF YOU. SERIOUSLY. THAT IS ALL.**

**Thanks goes to Harry's (of course).**

**Lastly: I'd like to continue to beg for forgiveness about my grammar, but if anyone has extra time (time? What's that?) to beta this, drop me an e-mail. If you don't, it's all right, you all seem to be trucking through this all right.  
**

**So. Off to be useful (damn). Have a nice week everybody!**


	13. Numb

**I have only one thing to say concerning the lateness of this chapter:**

**FINALS. SUCK.**

**But they're over now. And it's all good. Only one warning for this chapter- and that's the slight amount of SAP. Ok...the more-than-usual amount of SAP. -.-

* * *

**

Immediately upon waking, Sakaki Haruto decided that he could get used to sharing his bed with another person. It was almost like having another pillow – one that lived, breathed, molded exactly to you… he couldn't get over it. For a few minutes, he simply lay there contemplating the more mundane points of his position, shoving thoughts of _why _he was there away. Studying the way that Miho's face relaxed into peacefulness while sleeping was a better way to wake up than considering how much longer his life would last if SOLOMON found them. Soon though, he found himself getting warm, and knew that if he didn't want to overheat, he'd have to get up. _How annoying, _he thought to himself, slipping his arm from her waist and slowly sitting up, _all you want to do is stay in bed, and the **heat **gets to you, of all things._

There wasn't any denying thermodynamics, though, and soon he was grudgingly standing, going through his bag, and pulling his new clothes on in the bathroom. He brushed his teeth with the supplies provided by Nagira, and put his hair in some semblance of order. Then he glanced at the bed again. She hadn't moved, besides a slight shifting of her hand. He considered waking her up, but decided that it would be better for her to sleep while she could. The decision left him at odds, leaning against a wall and trying to think of something quiet to do without waking Karasuma. His stomach growled.

Breakfast, of course. He could go and find breakfast. By the time he got back, it would be a more decent time to wake her up. Smiling, he grabbed his shoes and slunk out the door, making sure to also take a key.

* * *

It was nearing eight-thirty when he stepped into the lobby, trying his best not to stand out in the morning rush of business men and women scurrying to meetings and conventions. He wandered around, fairly certain that he had seen a bar or restaurant somewhere.

The bar, it turned out, found him. He saw the tables, but it seemed that the place was closed. However, as he was about to give it up and try to find a vending machine, a voice called out from his left.

"Hey, you!"

Sakaki turned around waryily. A man was coming out of a door, which presumably led to a kitchen of some sort. He was waving a small strip of paper in one hand. Relaxing marginally, Sakaki stuck his hands in his pockets. "Yeah?" he asked, reminding himself that he looked like a surly teenager – not a semi-professional hunter.

"Do you know a tall guy, kinda curly hair?" He spread his hands apologetically, "I thought I saw you come in with him last night, your older brother or something?"

Sakaki nodded. Nagira definitely met the description; the lawyer did rather look like an older brother to him and Karasuma.

The man sighed, relieved. "Oh good. Look, he left this last night at the bar – and I really don't think he'd want to lose it."

Sakaki took the paper from the man's hands, thinking it was a receipt of some sort, and glanced down at it.

He blinked. Images of Doujima and Nagira, laughing and making somewhat ridiculous faces stared back at him. The paper wasn't a receipt; it was a picture booth reel. For a moment, he couldn't do much else but gawp, and then snapped his head back up to the expectant barkeep. "T-thank you," he finally forced out, nodding to the man.

"You ok, buddy? That ain't your woman, is it? I didn't get a good look at 'er last night."

Sakaki shook his head vigorously. "No, no, I was just surprised." He looked down again, this time noticing there was a rip at the bottom, as if one of the pictures had been ripped off. "There aren't any others, are there?"

"Nope," the man said, "that's all there was. He was lookin at 'em awfully hard, though."

"Yeah," Sakaki said softly, "yeah, I bet he was." Turning, he waved to the bar tender. "Thanks."

"No problem, bud. You tell that friend of yours that she's no good for him if she left. He ought to move on and find another girl- there's plenty of fish in the sea."

Sakaki looked down at the pictures, shaking his head. "Right," he said, forgetting the words even as he heard them. He turned to the front desk, shoving the pictures in his pocket.

"Can I help you, Sir?" a helpful attendant asked.

Sakaki paused for a moment, thinking over the complications of what he was about to do. Then he shook himself and said, "Yeah, could you give me the room number of Nagira Syunji? I came in with him last night."

"Of course, you and your lady friend," the man said, trying to hide a grin and failing.

Sakaki blinked, and then nodded. So long as he was remembered, he didn't really care how; though the lack of tact on the receptionist's part was somewhat surprising. _Must be an Osaka thing_, he decided as the desk man gave him the room number. Nodding his thanks, Sakaki grabbed two juices and a few breakfast bars that had been set out near the desk, and headed to the elevator.

* * *

There were no signs of life coming from room 737. For a moment, Sakaki argued with himself about whether to knock and hand the pictures over in person or just slip them under the door. He was sorely tempted to do the latter but felt it would somehow be cowardly. Of course, it would save face for Nagira, but…

He sighed and knocked. Curiosity was getting the better of him. Where was that last picture? He couldn't very well just bring it up in the car – this wasn't every day conversation material. There was a long pause and Sakaki heard shuffling from within the room. Finally, the door opened, revealing Nagira still dressed in his business clothes from the day before. Sakaki firmly schooled his face to neutrality at the lawyer's appearance; he was a bit of a mess, with dark circles under his eyes and the usual wicked grin conspicuously gone.

Sakaki wordlessly handed over the small line of pictures. As he watched, Nagira's face morphed slowly from surprise, to sadness, to resigned amusement. Then he began to chuckle, voice gravelly. Waving Sakaki in, the lawyer turned from the door, barely murmuring 'just can't get away from her.'

Sakaki stood just inside the door, feeling like a complete outsider as Nagira sat on the bed and extracted his wallet from his coat, carefully putting the pictures in one of the leather pouches. He then straightened and walked to his suitcase, unzipping a side pocket and rooting around. "Where'd you find 'em?" he asked as he pulled out a bottle of pain reliever.

"The barkeep gave them to me," Sakaki replied quietly as Nagira shook some pills from the bottle. Grunting, Nagira unwrapped one of the hotel glasses and filled it with water, taking a drink and throwing two pills back with what looked like the ease of practice. He coughed once, drank the rest of the water, and looked at the teen. "Thanks," he said, inclining his head. "I'll be ready to go in half an hour."

Sakaki nodded his understanding, and opened the door. Halfway out, he turned around. "Where's the last picture?" he asked.

Nagira put his hands into his wrinkled pockets, staring to the side with a very slight smile on his face and thinking of the last picture, when he had caught Doujima in a kiss, and both their eyes were closed. "With her," he said, and turned to get ready.

* * *

Sakaki wandered back to the room slowly, brooding as he walked. The goodbye he had stumbled on had been passionate, a lot of kissing, some groans and whispered names – all in all, it hadn't shown him the depth of Nagira's relationship with Doujima. There had not been an 'I love you' and he hadn't even seen them hold hands. The only reason he had ever known anything was his surprise appearance as she was leaving on her last day. At the time, it had seemed more like the parting of two people who had sex for fun – not lovers of any sort. Of course, as he thought about it, he realized that they themselves probably hadn't realized how close they were to one another. It was just in their natures.

After ten minutes, he reached the door of the room he was sharing with Karasuma, and quietly slipped in. She was awake and standing by the sink with her toothbrush in hand, leaning against the wall with a pensive look on her face. She was so lost in thought that she jumped when Sakaki appeared beside her.

"You ok?" he asked, concerned. He had heard that women disliked waking up alone but his mind had chosen not to remind him until that moment.

She shook her head, "I'm fine. Just…wondering what Michael is doing – what the STN-J is like without us."

"Quiet, I'm sure," he said, cracking a smile, "maybe Michael's finally getting some proper time off."

Her lips curved as she rinsed off her toothbrush and placed it in the backpack beside her. "I hope so. I don't think he's gotten any real time off since he's been there." She frowned, "It was all either recovery from something, or he was still collared." There was a pause and then she beamed up at him, a sparkle of humor in her eyes. "Maybe he'll go out clubbing or something."

For a moment, Sakaki smiled down at her, meaning to reply in kind. Suddenly, though, words failed him, and his smile followed soon after. The image of Nagira, standing with his hands in his pockets and thinking about that last picture – whatever it had been – flashed in his mind and he found himself reaching out to take her in his arms. She went willingly, arms reaching up to link around his neck, but he could feel her surprise in the slight inhalation at his ear.

"Haruto?" she asked quietly after a second's pause.

"He loved her," Sakaki said into her hair as explanation, knowing that she would understand, "I think he really loved her."

A pause, and then her arms tightened, her head falling into place on his neck. "I know," she said softly, "He tries to hide it, but..." She trailed off, lacking words for Nagira's complete and utter sadness, which she only saw in flashes, but felt like a continuous fog.

"I don't want to hurt him any more," Sakaki said, voice just above a whisper.

Karasuma sighed. "No, neither do I," she said, resigned. They were a connection to Doujima and she knew that by acting like a couple, they were only throwing salt onto already painful wounds. _Well_, she thought, _it's only for a few days_.

For a long moment, they stood there by the sink, holding each other as if making up for the time that would be lost. Then Sakaki loosened his grip and stepped a little back, smiling at Karasuma. "Nagira said he'd be about a half an hour," he glanced at the clock embedded in the mirror and frowned, "Twenty minutes ago."

Karasuma covered a chuckle with one hand, "Well," she said, going into the room and grabbing her bag, "it's not like we have to pack much. I just have to change." Then she disappeared into the bathroom. Sakaki stared after her for a moment before realizing that he was looking at nothing but a white bathroom door. He turned to the room, grabbing his discarded sleeping clothes and shoving them unceremoniously into the backpack along with the hair brush and tooth brush. As he straightened, the door opened, and he couldn't help but momentarily admire the short hemline of Karasuma's skirt while she collected her toiletries from the sink. He would have to thank Nagira somehow, he decided. As he tried to figure out how she managed to stay warm, she turned and caught him. He jerked his gaze up in surprise to find her eyebrow quirked, her hand halfway in her bag. He smiled and mutely shook his head, feeling a little silly. She zipped the bag with a smile of her own, saying, "and with five minutes to spare, no less."

A sly grin snuck across his features and he slid closer, murmuring, "I can think of a good way to spend that," before swiftly connecting his lips with hers. Her backpack dropped to the floor, one hand burying itself in his hair as their lips moved in tandem. He closed his eyes as her free hand curled at his shoulder, fingers tickling him through the thin shirt.

"Not terribly creative," she said breathily when he drew back for a moment, "but effective."

Sakaki raised an eyebrow. "You want me to be creative?"

Karasuma's face became confused for a moment, soon replaced by surprise when he descended again, this time delicately taking her lower lip in his teeth. He kissed her normally again and she gently nipped at his upper lip, trying the game for herself. Kissing became playful, taking turns at biting and nibbling between kisses, and when a knock on the door interrupted, Karasuma broke away and smiled. "I could get used it," she said and disentangled herself from his arms, kissing him softly once before opening the door.

Nagira stood outside, his coat draped over his arm. Karasuma thought she caught a sad frown on his face as she walked by, but then he looked up at her and flashed his trademark grin. The melancholy retreated behind his eyes again. She nodded, smiling as if she hadn't noticed the frown at all. But it was hard to forget.

* * *

As they checked out and got to the car, Nagira began to dread the drive to Hiroshima. It wasn't as if they were going to make out in his back seat, he told himself. They would probably sit quietly, hands barely touching in a way that seemed even more intimate then being in the middle of screwing each other would.

As he thought about it, unlocking his door, he decided that it probably was. Sex was a matter of "insert tab A in slot B"; emotional involvement was barely required. He knew from experience that screwing the enemy could be fun.

Falling for the enemy was …not.

The frown returned to his face as he sat down and unlocked the doors, staring morosely at the steering wheel. When he looked up again, Sakaki had taken a seat beside him and Karasuma had slid into the back seat. They… weren't sitting together. A rush of gratitude abruptly filled him and he reached down to the keys, starting the car with a smirk. It was something, anyway.

_"It's ok. It's not like I want to hide from you."_

Karasuma held back a sigh as the conversation from the night before replayed in her mind, warring for attention with her still tingling lips. Last night had been yet another reminder of exactly _how _ she had managed to fall in love with Sakaki – despite the fact that they had been forced to hide their relationship and despite the fact that she'd never seen it coming.

She had had relationships, yes, but they had never felt logical in her mind as well as well as right in her heart. They had always been with a completely human man from SOLOMON that seemed pulled in by her mystery and sadness, and then eventually pushed away when the trials of being a witch became too difficult for them to handle. Things had usually ended gracefully, parting as friends when it became clear to one or both of them that he could never get over the simple fact that she was a witch.

As she thought about it, her choice in men had never been very good. Well, logical, anyway. They had all been good men, most certainly. But she couldn't recall ever feeling _passion_ for them. She had kissed them but couldn't remember a time when she had nearly lost her balance from kissing them. It had mostly been a gesture for meetings and partings and she had never felt the absence. She doubted that if any of them had pulled a trick, like Sakaki had that morning, she would have continued – much less played along…and enjoyed it. She shook her head clear – just thinking about it made her shiver pleasantly.

But it wasn't only the fact that she would willingly follow his lead that surprised her. He was easy to talk to and good to listen to as well. In a way, it was incredibly refreshing to be able to talk about her powers with someone that understood. And telling him about her parents had just been so… easy. Natural. The last person who had heard the whole story was Amon and she had been a mess at the time. He had been the one to tell her to stop regretting things she couldn't control – advice that she had been sorely tempted to reciprocate as she came to know him better.

She wondered if she would regret the last few months, with time. Would she regret the coven, leaving Michael, getting Nagira involved? She didn't think she would regret the coven, it just felt… right, even if she was running for her life. As for Michael, she just hoped SOLOMON hadn't suspected him, that he wasn't physically hurt. No doubt he was emotionally bruised; after all, they had left him alone again. She might regret that some day but what choice had they had, really? And Nagira… he could take care of himself, except maybe where Doujima was concerned.

Would she regret Sakaki?

She smiled. No, she could never regret him.

* * *

It was turning out to be a very strange few months, Sakaki thought as the lines on the highway rushed past his window; possibly stranger than anything in his life.

Actually, very _likely_ stranger than anything else. Becoming a witch hadn't been strange – his parents had warned him and showed him that he would have powers when he was older. Hunter training had been along the same lines – he'd been raised expecting such a thing. Coming to the STN-J had been a logical extension of his training. The factory had been- well, it had been sick and strange. But it had still been for SOLOMON and he had still been a hunter. The factory had only been the beginning, though. It was everything else that followed that simply seemed… out of place with the rest of his life.

He had been a SOLOMON baby. It was something akin to military brats; they knew a lot of people in the business, had been conditioned to understand what it was their parents did, and pressed to follow in their footsteps. He'd been glad to go through hunter training – especially once he found out what happened to those that refused. At the beginning, he'd been doing it for his father. When his mother died though, he'd decided that he would become a hunter for her – she'd been proud when he had entered training.

_Wonder what mom would think now,_ he thought to himself. _I know dad's probably livid…provided he's heard. _

He didn't know whether his father had heard yet about the call for his life, though. He also realized that he didn't really care, either way.

There was one other thing that didn't fit nicely in the puzzle that was his life, one that made the dissolving of his hunter's life worth it.

He'd never been in a serious relationship before. His record thus far had been comprised of three one-night stands and breakfast the morning after. This… thing he had built with Miho was completely out of sorts with that. He wasn't sure what had kept it from sliding into the rut that his past had taken. Maybe it was her. She was exceptional beyond comprehension – older than forty and younger than twenty by turns, she could see the past with her hands…those same hands that he had held as he fell asleep the night before.

Then again, maybe it was him. Before the factory, there was no denying that he'd been stupid. But everything that had happened in the building had plagued him, made him older than his years. He had stopped taking chances – not wanting to force his co-workers through another loss. And while he hadn't had time for girls while he was in Japan, he'd simply lost sight of the appeal of a one-night stand. It just didn't sound as fun as it once had.

Trying to be discreet, he glanced back at Karasuma. She was looking out of her window, chin in one hand and legs tucked underneath her. As if sensing his eyes, she suddenly shifted to return his gaze. As she smiled, Sakaki realized with a start that having her made everything he'd gone through in the last few months worth it.

* * *

The headache Nagira had woken up with was growing worse. Of course, it was completely his fault. He had probably had a few more drinks than was wise – the night before was something of an alcohol-induced blur. He had been drinking whiskey, that much he remembered. The barkeep had been talking at him but he hadn't heard the words. At some point he'd taken the pictures out and stared at them, trying to tell himself to forget her again, like he'd been working on doing before they had shown up.

The irony did not escape him that it was Sakaki who had brought the pictures of Doujima back, just as the ex-hunter had brought thoughts of her back to his mind.

Damn it! He'd been so close to shutting off that valve in his mind that dripped her voice, her skin, her perfume into his thoughts. And then they'd shown up and the spigot had opened all over again. Even numbed with drink and half asleep, when he had lain down in bed the night before, specter hands had roamed across his chest, making his breath stop. But when he'd opened his eyes, there was nothing but his own hands, clenched by his sides and shaking.

And when Sakaki had returned that strip of pictures the next morning, he'd finally understood that two months wasn't near enough to forget someone.

Especially her.

This wasn't going to get any easier, he realized, and he didn't want to intrude on them any longer. When he'd started, he hadn't thought that it would be such a big deal. But having _her _constantly on his mind was beginning to weigh on him and now he wasn't so sure. He glanced at the clock; they would be in Hiroshima in about two hours. Could he leave them there in good conscience? Yes, and he would find a way to rig some passports for them before he left; he still had some contacts that lived there. That decided, he began to feel better, the headache clearing enough to let him drive in relative peace.

* * *

It was a fairly small hotel by Hiroshima standards but it would do, Nagira decided. The room would be in his name anyway, so SOLOMON wouldn't be able to track them. And it was near the transit station. They could stay here for a day or two and then go to Fukuoka. It was perfect.

Again, they stood on the sidelines as he booked a room – thus missing that he did not reserve a room for himself. Then he turned, handing them their keys and smiling.

"I've got some errands to run," he said. "Meet in your room about eight?"

Sakaki glanced at his watch and nodded, it was about three thirty. More than enough time to find something for a late lunch – he was starving.

"Rightio – you kids have fun now, hear?" Nagira said jauntily and waved as he turned around, walking away with a light spring in his step. Sakaki and Karasuma stared after him a moment, both taken aback by his sudden mood swing. They glanced at each other and Sakaki shrugged.

"Lunch?" he asked, "I'm starved."

Karasuma smiled. "Yes, me too."

Hands barely brushing each other, and not needing anything more, they made their way to the small restaurant attached to the hotel.

* * *

Two freshly made passports resting warmly in his pocket, Nagira sauntered into the hotel lobby and checked the clock. It was seven-thirty – not too bad, he'd have to remember that guy. Fast work, and pretty good, too. Not only that, but he'd been able to cajole some good info out of the guy he'd gone through. All in all, it hadn't been such a bad afternoon. He was in his element here, getting information and using it to save lives.

As he got into the elevator, he sighed. Now he had to tell Sakaki and Karasuma that he was leaving. He had an excuse, albeit a lame one, and he'd reserved their room for another night and found and reserved tickets for the bus – it would be as if he'd never left.

His conscience still nagged at him a bit, like a biting insect at his neck. For once, he ignored it. Sometimes his sanity had to take precedence. They were capable of taking care of themselves, especially with the head start he'd given them.

Finding their room number, he gave the door a smart rap, fully expecting to be stuck waiting for a few minutes; after all, he was early. Instead, Sakaki opened the door after a moment's pause, still clothed in the shirt and shorts Nagira had given him. Nagira had to fight to keep an eyebrow from rising at his quickness – the set up of the equation seemed to have only one outcome – and refrained from commenting as Sakaki showed him in.

The room was bigger than last night's had been. It reminded him more of an American hotel than anything else. A TV sat on a large entertainment center and Karasuma sat at a desk by the window. It looked like she had been doodling on the pad of paper provided. As he cleared his throat, she sat up and put her pen down.

"Here," he said quickly, handing them each a passport with the Japanese seal embossed on the front. "Just don't ask me where I got 'em."

"But…" Sakaki started, and Nagira shook his head.

"I don't care what anyone told you to do- Japan just isn't that big. If it's a choice between following orders and staying alive, I'd choose life any old day."

Sakaki nodded, putting the small document in his pocket as Karasuma mused, finally saying, "she did say it didn't matter where we were."

Nagira's natural penchant for little-known information perked up. "Don't suppose you could tell me who it is that's been running the show, could you?"

They glanced at each other, and Sakaki shrugged. "He'd figure it out, anyway," he said and Karasuma nodded.

"You heard about the woman who was sent to replace Robin and Amon?" she asked.

Nagira nodded; Doujima had proclaimed the woman a bitch the day the new hunter had arrived.

"She had been working against SOLOMON already when she got here and partnered with Single-Eye, another witch, to awaken seeds." Karasuma paused, seeing Nagira's surprised look. "Nagira?" she asked.

"You were working with a witch named Single-Eye?" he asked, remembering what his contact had told him about the state of Tokyo's underground.

"Yeah…" Sakaki said slowly, his voice wary.

Nagira sighed. _Well damn, _he thought, _they've got a right to know._ "Single-Eye is dead. Someone apparently went to his apartment and found nothing but some blood on the door and a note that said 'I'm sorry'." He paused, watching the news seep heavily into their faces. Suddenly grim, Nagira frowned at the floor, mumbling, "thought you'd like to know."

"Yes," Karasuma said softly. Her voice was tear-laden but firm. "Thank you."

"What about Michael?" Sakaki asked. "Did he make it out all right?"

Nagira nodded. "Yeah, the kid's fine. He's been on the lookout for you two." He snorted. "Should recruit the guy, he's got a knack for Intel."

"I'm afraid," Karasuma said with strained amusement, "that he's already been recruited. Rather forcefully."

Nagira chuckled, remembering the hacker's surprise appearance in Harry's. "Yeah, I guess. Well, we'll see. After all, look at you two."

Two small smiles appeared on their faces and Nagira sighed. These two shouldn't be here, he thought. They should be in school, living some semblance of a normal life. Single-Eye should have been an uncle who died of a heart attack, not a spy with a bullet to the brain. Michael should have been the class genius, not the kid left behind. Sometimes he really hated the gene pool for pulling this 'witch' crap on people. "Anyway," he said, "I got a call from Mika. There's a client about to drop a case and another few that are threatening. I've got to get back, if that's all right."

Karasuma started and glanced at Sakaki. They both knew it was a bald-faced lie; his 'real' job didn't much matter to him. He was leaving because of Doujima.

"It's fine," Sakaki said presently. "I'm sure we'll be ok."

Nagira let out the breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Ok. Well, you've got your passports, this room is paid for another night, and there're tickets waiting for you at the bus station to Fukuoka." He looked between the two of them for a moment and sighed. "Well, I've got to leave now if I want to be back in Tokyo before business hours tomorrow," he said. "Good luck." _In staying alive and staying together,_ he added mentally and turned, not bothering with any further goodbyes.

They didn't stop him, sensing that he needed to get out, not even getting the chance to throw a 'thank you' behind him. He was gone in less than a second. For a moment, Karasuma stared after him, feeling numb. "That's that," she said faintly, standing and staring at her hands for a moment. There was still grime from the tunnel and stair case smeared across her fingers and suddenly, a shower sounded like a very good idea. She pushed away from the table to grab her backpack, Sakaki turning at the noise. Feeling his eyes on her, she looked up. "Shower," she said simply, and he nodded, seeming to trust his voice as little as she hers. Grabbing the complimentary soaps, she went in and shut the door.

* * *

Sakaki lay on the bed with his hands behind his head when she came out, dressed in her night clothes. He got up silently when he saw she was done, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. Then he took the bathroom over for himself, the shower starting moments after the door closed.

At first she tried lying down, but soon found that the chaos of her thoughts wouldn't let her stay still. She stood, pacing to the window and pulling the drapes aside with one hand to watch the city lights. Somehow, it had slipped her mind that Single-Eye was in as much danger as they were – possibly more. That SOLOMON would think to hunt him…she just hadn't contemplated it, though it made more sense than them hunting her. But she had just assumed he would get away, disappear – just as he had when the STN-J had hunted him.

That had been a more than half a year ago. And now he was really dead. Hunted. She stared out the window, the hand that gripped the drape threatening to cramp. Hearing about Single-Eye's death brought to mind everything else she had left in Tokyo. Her apartment along with what memoirs of her life she had had,. Someone would probably wonder what happened to the Emergency room worker eventually, either because she didn't pay rent or she wasn't there when they needed first aide advice. They might go into her apartment, look for a clue. The only things of interest they would find would be a mailing address to Doujima in Europe, a few pictures, and her broken Orbo amulet. Her hunter's certificate was in a safety deposit box. That was all right, she didn't want it anyway.

But she had still left it. Left everything. It was a very empty feeling.

A door opened and shut, and Sakaki's arms suddenly slid around her from behind. Dropping the curtain, she turned to bury her face in his shoulder, throwing her arms around his neck. No tears came but the need to hold him, and be held in return, to know that the person that mattered had stayed with her, was overwhelming. Murmuring her name, he planted a kiss in her hair, hands stroking her back.

"It just didn't seem possible," she said quietly.

"I know," he said. "I knew the chance was there, but it didn't seem like it'd actually happen."

"What do you think he was sorry for?"

Sakaki sighed; he had wondered the same thing. "I don't know." His hands stilled, "But I don't think it was for joining Kenshio."

She nodded, slowly drawing back and sitting on the bed. Her thoughts had slowed, leaving in their wake a sudden exhaustion. Sakaki lay down after turning out the lights and she moved within arms reach, the shyness of the night before forgotten. "Do you think it was for being caught?" she asked as she settled in his arms.

He was silent for a moment, a finger moving idly on her shoulder. "No," he finally said. He looked down and smiled sadly. "He told me once that he didn't care whether he lived or died. I think someone made that last part up."

Karasuma nodded, closing her eyes. "I hope so," she said. "I don't like thinking he died feeling sorry about something."

"Yeah," Sakaki agreed and then leaned down, briefly pressing his lips to hers. "Good night."

There was a slight pause, and then she moved to return the kiss, lingering just a bit longer than he had. "Good night," she said, and then, quietly, "I love you."

For a moment, he forgot to breathe from hearing her say it so firmly, when he could actually listen to her instead of being half scared to death by a background of explosions. Then he felt her hand move, and inhaled. "I love you," he replied, and closed his eyes, repeating the phrase over and over in his mind until he dropped off to sleep.

* * *

**Notes: Don't worry, the plot comes back. I swear. **

**Huzzah for summer. We'll see what happens with jobs and such, but I suspect we're done with uber slow updating for a little while.**

**Thanks to Petite Hikari and MsCongeniality (I really hope I spelled those right…) for betaing, Harry's for being spiffy, and you crazy reviewers. Seriously, I don't think I'll ever get over you guys.**

**Right, I think that's it, have a nice rest of the week, everybody!**


	14. Just Glad You're Here

**Oh holy hell. Here you all are, chapter 14. Sorry about the long wait, but there was a trip and the chapter itself was hard to write and...yeah. Read. .**

* * *

Waking was a strange sort of sensation. She could at first feel everything as if she were awake, but her body did not quite respond when she moved to stretch. Then her sense of smell awoke. She inhaled; the scent of cheap soap flooded her nose. As she exhaled, she suddenly felt the arms around her waist which had earlier kept her from moving too much. Curiously, she did not start or jolt as she would have expected had she been more awake. But her half-asleep mind knew that it was Sakaki, and her only reaction was to try to move closer; pressing herself to his comfortable warmth and burying her face at the junction between his neck and shoulder.

As she breathed out again, she felt him move, dropping his chin to the top of her head and flexing his fingers.

"Miho…" he muttered, voice crackling with lack of use. She smiled against his skin, not replying. Sakaki squirmed, "mreh, you're tickling-" he shifted again, "me."

This time she could not help but giggle. "I had no idea you were ticklish," she said, voice muffled.

"Only early in the morning," he said. There was a pause, "and only for you."

"Really?" The word was out of her mouth before she could think to stop it. She didn't want to think about the women that Sakaki had previously been with. Not because she was jealous, per se, but it just didn't seem like something worth pondering.

"Yes," he said, "'course, you're the exception to a lot of rules."

She chuckled shortly, "so are you."

They both quieted again. Karasuma suspected that Sakaki had dropped off again until his hand moved on her side, fingers exploring her skin through the thin pajama top. She closed her eyes, trying to keep her breathing even. It was hard; her entire body was tingling from the simple touch.

"Not fair," he said into her ear, and moved his hand again, this time actually making contact with her skin. She gasped in surprise, and felt him smile. "There. Even."

His hand stopped moving, though it remained against her skin. She didn't even think to complain, relaxing back into his embrace. "This is the first time in a while I just haven't had to get up," she commented sleepily.

"Me too." He sighed, "Though, Nagira said we should pick up the bus tickets."

She buried her face in his shoulder again, saying, "I'm tempted to say that the bus tickets can wait."

Sakaki chuckled at her words, "Well, I'm sure they can, after all, it's only…" he moved, turning over to glance at the clock, "eight o'clock."

"That early?" Karasuma asked. "We must still be used to waking up for work."

He sobered, quietly saying, "We did go to bed early last night."

"Yes," she replied, also quiet, "we did."

There was a moment of silence for their fallen comrade. Karasuma tightened her arms around Sakaki's neck, thankful that she had someone to share the burdens of being a fugitive with. He sighed, breath sweeping across her ear, then stilled. They lay for a while longer, dozing. Finally, he moved, and Karasuma disengaged her arms only slightly unwillingly. Kissing her hand, he smiled at her. "Sorry, but I gotta go to the bathroom."

She smiled back, slightly amused. "Don't apologize."

Placing another kiss on the inside of her wrist, he slid out of the bed and disappeared. She rolled over into his place, closing her eyes and savoring the residual warmth from his body.

"Now you stole my spot," Sakaki's voice said from above her a moment later, "that's just not fair."

"All's fair in love and war," she said, trying not to laugh.

"Oh really?" he asked, and then took hold of the covers and flipped them off of her. She gasped, taken completely by surprise with the cool room air.

"All right," she said, arms moving to wrap around her suddenly cold body, "not quite everything." He smiled, and she sat up, arms still wrapped around herself. "I guess I could get up," she said, noticing that he had changed. Pushing herself away from the bed, she walked to the bathroom with her backpack in tow.

Sakaki watched her go, grinning to himself. It was easy to forget the world at large when he was the only one in the room with her. He could just pretend that, somehow, they were on vacation; no one was out for their lives, they had never taken another life… they were just two people of the same age and intelligence… in love. _Good grief_, he thought, _this is one hell of a life I'm living_, and he wandered to the bathroom door.

She came out, changed into Nagira's gift and brushing her hair back into its normal style with her fingers. Sakaki smiled. "C'mere," he said, waving his hand at her, "if we're going out, we should probably change as much as we can."

She blinked, glanced in the mirror and shook her head, shuffling over to him. "I should have thought of that," she murmured as he took a comb from his own bag and turned on the facet.

He smiled and wet the comb, manipulating her hair so that it hung straight down from a middle part. Stepping back and admiring his handiwork, he nodded. It was different, but he rather liked it.

"Do I pass?" she asked dryly.

He laughed outright, amused by the bout of sarcasm. "More than," he said, and pressed the comb into her hands, "your turn."

Shaking her head in slight amusement, she did her best to comb his hair into the same basic style as hers, but it somehow always managed to go back to it's usual disorder. After five minutes of fighting with it, she shook her head and handed the comb back. "I've got an idea, turn around." Sakaki did so, and taking a rubber band from the top of one of the glasses, Karasuma gathered as much of his hair as she could and bound it back. When he turned around again, she sighed. It was all back, but he just looked _strange._

Glancing in the mirror, Sakaki chuckled shortly. "Man, glad I never decided to grow my hair out." She smiled, silently agreeing. He turned back to her, "but I definitely look different. Let's go."

* * *

From the moment they stepped from the hotel doors, Karasuma knew something was wrong. At first, though, it didn't feel strong enough to be anything more than being so out in the open. Hands just barely brushing, they walked down the block to the bus station. The building was visible from their place on the sidewalk, and people surged around them. It must have been a weekend, Karasuma thought, there were quite a few younger looking people around them. But then, they could have been university students. She and Sakaki reached the street, stopping as cars sped in front of them, suddenly part of a large group that waited to cross.

As they waited, Karasuma glanced around, a cold chill spilling itself down her back. Someone was here, someone with great power, and control that was just as great. Even if the energy from them hadn't been malicious, she would have recognized a SOLOMON agent's power; very few of the witches they had awakened had that amount of power, especially outside of Tokyo, or she would have heard about it before now.

The energy moved nearer, and the hairs on the back of her neck rose. She edged closer to Sakaki, whispering, "Haruto…"

He moved his hand to her lower back, and she realized that he was as tense as she. "I know."

She glanced up at him, surprised. "But how?"

"Related, sometimes I know them," he said cryptically, shifting closer. She nodded, telekinetics was a mind craft, much like telekinesis; it wasn't inconceivable that they would occasionally overlap- especially in the presence of such a strong force. Sweeping her gaze across the crowd, her eyes fell on a tall European man in a black suit to Sakaki's right. White crosses were stitched into his cuffs, and he wore a heavy silver cross proudly on his chest. Karasuma suddenly knew with certainty that this was where the power was radiating from. "There," she whispered, nodding slightly, "in the church clothes."

Sakaki involuntarily glanced to his right, immediately seeing the man that she had nodded to. Taking a breath, he drew Karasuma closer, murmuring, "Don't look too hard; pretend you think he's a priest."

She swallowed and nodded, forcing her looks to be quick and curious, not long enough to be recognized by. Sakaki's hands drew her to face him, smoothing her dress as they slowly made their way down either side of her body. Pressing herself closer, she felt his hands start again at her upper back, this time applying more pressure. She closed her eyes, falling into the part of a teenager out with her newest boyfriend- nothing to worry about but him. As his fingers made circles down her natural waist, she buried her hands in his hair and felt him lean in to her touch. Without her sight, it felt like they were the only two people there, like they were already back in their room, relieved at having cheated death yet again.

But when she opened her eyes again, it was to the SOLOMON agent looking straight at them – hard.

Without a second thought she grabbed Sakaki's chin and brought him around to face her. Glancing at the agent one last time, she forced herself to wink and then crushed her lips to Sakaki's, closing her eyes and praying that her plan would work. If it didn't, they would soon be dead – at this rate, she doubted that SOLOMON would bother hunting either of them discreetly. _If it doesn't, _she thought, _I can think of worse things I could be doing as I die. _

With that thought in mind, she slid her arms down his shoulders, trying to press herself closer, and he responded in kind, tightening his grip on her back. They broke for air, but reconnected immediately as a breeze swept between their parted lips.

* * *

God, it was a disgusting spectacle – two teenagers, embroiled in trying to suck each other's souls out. He shook his head, they were probably already living in sin; sin greater than lacking modesty. For a moment, he had thought that they may have been his targets, but anyone with half a mind could tell that the kiss was not stage play, and the briefing has said that they were not romantically involved. He had also been told that the two would probably split up, anyway.

The walk light blinked on, and people began to flow across the street. He allowed himself to be swept up in the mass, sparing a last glare for the couple - still locked in that wicked embrace. Halfway across the street, he glanced back to see if the two had realized that the light had turned.

They were gone. He looked closer to him, but they were not there. Two figures moving away drew his gaze – the man and woman, hand in hand and running with the practiced grace of hunters through the oncoming crowd. He narrowed his eyes, cursing his stupidity. How had intel missed that their targets were involved? Growling, he pressed his radio, saying, "Targets at Aiko and Sadori; they are together, repeat, they are together," and then dropping his hand under his jacket. Hand on his gun; he gave chase, whispering to himself, "They shall not be forgiven…"

* * *

"I've found them."

"Huh? That was fast." The dark haired woman made a motion as the other woman, a younger version of herself, stood up.

"They're by the bus station." There was a pause, and the younger witch frowned. "She didn't say anything about them being together."

"Sure she did, she said they'd likely stick with each oth…oh." Kino trailed off as Mira's words sunk in, "Oh. Well, that's…a change."

Suddenly, Mira turned, staring through the alley wall as if she could see to the street. "Did you get the wind to follow them?"

"Of course," Kino scoffed, "we've only been doing this for a year now – why?"

"They're running then, fast and scared."

The older girl frowned, knowing that Mira would be right. "Better call them then, we can get them out of here."

She nodded, and sat, unvoiced chants moving her lips as she closed her eyes. For a moment, Kino watched the younger girl, and then leaned against the wall to wait. It wouldn't be long.

* * *

She felt the people moving around her, and slowly, the craft force moved away as well. Sakaki's hand trailed from her waist to take her hand, and squeezed once. A last ferocious kiss and they broke at the same moment, turning and sprinting away like gazelles. For a moment, it seemed as if they would get away, but then there was a shout from behind, and the craft force flared anew. They sprinted down the street, ignoring the doors to their hotel, looking for some means of protection. Karasuma knew with certainty that Sakaki's craft was the only weapon they really had – neither of them had their guns with them, nor any other weapons. There was only one choice: hide.

Moving a little ahead of her partner, Karasuma dove into an alley opening, dragging Sakaki with her. He was caught off guard, but followed quickly as soon as he regained his footing.

Breathing shallowly, they made their way around trash cans and crates to get further back in the alley. Finally, they pressed behind a large stack of boxes.

"If I collapse the crates on him, it'll buy us some time." Sakaki said, carefully peeking out to see the alley.

Karasuma nodded, not trusting her voice. She was not used to being the hunted, the one running away. Now, more than ever, she regretted the people she had hunted while with the STN-J. "At least we kept our money with us," she said quietly, "we can still catch a bus or ship out of here." She met his eyes, refusing to acknowledge their slim chances of survival. He nodded gravely and opened his mouth to say something.

"You know," a voice interrupted from behind another wall of boxes, "Planes are faster," the two ex-hunters gasped in surprise, spinning to look for the source of the comment. "Not to mention they go farther," a young woman suddenly appeared, holding out her hands. "Don't worry," she said as the two eyed her suspiciously, "We follow the Eve, we're here to help."

"Eve?" Sakaki said, not lowering his defenses.

"Kino, she told us not to say anything about that," another voice said from behind the boxes.

"Oh, yeah. Drat." The woman sighed, and then looked at them again, "You know a woman named Kenshio?"

They nodded warily.

"She told us to find and protect you; now, do you want to get out of here or not? We've got a car waiting."

Sakaki glanced at Karasuma. She was gazing at the woman in front of them in curiosity. The Eve… "Alright," she said, nodding to Sakaki, "let's go."

Kino grinned wolfishly, "C'mon Mira," she said over her shoulder, "we need to get these two out of here before the good king shows up."

"Hold on…" the other voice said, and then grunted, "Alright." Another woman appeared, smaller than Kino, and stretched. "We've got a little more time, I managed to call him somewhere else." She grinned, "The idiot didn't even realize he was being manipulated."

Sakaki and Karasuma glanced at each other, still nervous. Kino saw the look and smiled. "Well, no harm in getting started early," she said, "let's be off." Waving for the couple to follow her, she turned to the back of the alley and opened a door, holding it open for them. Karasuma looked at the woman for a moment, wondering whether they should really be trusting her. But then there was a shout, and Mira was behind them, telling them to hurry. Deciding that they didn't have much of a choice _but _to trust the two, she followed Kino into the darkness of the building, Sakaki following and Mira closing the door behind them.

"You kept your money with you, right?" Kino asked as they hurried away from the alleyway. They were out of the building and had already walked about five blocks from it.

"Yes," Karasuma said, "where are we going?"

"You've got tickets and fake passports for four o'clock this afternoon. We were sent to find you and get you out of Japan." Kino's face soured, "apparently you two are currently on the top of the good king's list."

"That's not a surprise," Sakaki said with only a hint of sarcasm, "but how did you find us?"

"She called us and told us you were in the area. Mira's craft can find people if they touch something that her magic is attached to. My craft is wind. She put her magic into the wind and I sent it around until we found you."

Sakaki and Karasuma both blinked. "That's incredible," Karasuma said, "I don't think I've ever heard of witch's power being used like that."

Kino shrugged, walking a little closer to the building, "it isn't all that uncommon. You must have been out of the loop if you haven't seen two crafts working together before now."

"You could say that," Sakaki muttered. Karasuma silently agreed. If the two women that had rescued them didn't know she and Sakaki's previous occupation, she wasn't about to enlighten them. Undoubtedly, it would throw a wrench into their camaraderie.

Suddenly, Mira gasped. "Down!" she yelled, and instinctively, Karasuma and Sakaki both dove, dodging bullets from the other side of the street.

Screams erupted on the walk, civilians running way from the shots as a mob. Her hunter instincts taking over, Karasuma's eyes darted around, searching for their assailants. There, two men and one woman, calm faces in the sea of chaos. They were dressed in business suits, the high class tailored kind often worn by the Yakuza. SOLOMON was using the other organization as a cover – she briefly wondered what the mob would think of it.

But there was no time to ponder it further, she was already pushing herself from the ground and sprinting after the two women, Sakaki close behind. The agents gave chase. As they caught up, Karasuma said as quietly as she could while still running, "we've got to split up. The odds are better."

The two women looked at her strangely, but Sakaki nodded. They both knew from experience that forcing a hunting group to split up, no matter what the number ratios after the split, still tipped the odds to the prey's favor. Only, they had never been the prey before. Kino, seeing Sakaki's agreement, grimaced.

"All right," she said, and touching Sakaki's shoulder said, "You, come with me." The she nodded to Karasuma, "Go with Mira. We can find each other later."

There was a split second in which Karasuma felt herself quail at the thought of going without Sakaki. Finding his gaze, she knew that he felt the same hesitance. But simultaneously, they both nodded and turned away, splitting off with Mira and Kino. As she ran, Karasuma grimaced. They were only as strong together as they were apart. Now was a time to prove that, if only to themselves.

She was sure that they would do it.

* * *

Sakaki had no choice but to place his trust in Kino as they turned and headed towards downtown. It had been a very long time since he had last been to Hiroshima, and he had never had time to explore the city. Kino, though, had either been studying or lived here, because she smoothly led them from alley to alley, weaving between buildings and parks, always seeming to know a shortcut that the two agents following them did not. But it wasn't giving them too much of a lead, and Sakaki knew that Kino's tricks would eventually run out.

"We have to face them," he gasped between strides, "they won't drop the chase."

Kino glanced at him, shot out a hand and turned them down another street, saying, "Are you sure? These guys are the best. I've never seen anything like it."

Sakaki grimaced, "I was trained same as them. I may not be better, but I know how they think."

"You…" Kino stared at him for a moment in wide-eyed and disbelieving fear before shaking her head. "So that's why they're after you two so badly. Her too?"

Sakaki nodded, knowing that the woman meant Karasuma. For a moment, Kino frowned, and then she nodded in return, as if assuring him of her trust. He glanced ahead of them, and saw an opening in the street to an alley. "Ready?" he asked the woman running next to him.

She glanced behind them to the agents only a block behind, and then nodded. "Yeah."

As one, they veered sharply into the alley and ran half a block down – then turned. "Wind, right?" Sakaki asked.

"Yeah. She didn't say anything about your powers," Kino replied.

"Send a blast at them as soon as they turn in," Sakaki said quickly, eyes narrowed in concentration, "get as much debris as you can."

Frowning deeply, Kino nodded. Sakaki felt a breeze stirring, and then the two agents turned the corner.

The street abruptly became a wind tunnel, paper and dust whipping at the agents, gravel turning into small projectiles. Sakaki allowed himself a moment to be impressed, and then concentrated, reaching with his craft and yanking the guns out of their pursuer's hands. He had planned to bring the guns towards him, but the wind was strong, and keeping hold of two small objects simultaneously was hard work. Instead, he propelled the guns skyward, and watched as they landed on top of the building beside them.

"Kino!" he shouted above the gale, and the wind slowed, leaving the woman panting and with her hands clenched. The agents both stood, unarmed, at the mouth of the alley, hands held in defensive positions. As the storm subsided, they lowered their arms, gazing at Sakaki and Kino with anger.

"Ignore her for now," one said, the voice a low woman's, "he is the target."

Her partner, a stocky European-looking man, nodded but said nothing. At first, Sakaki was afraid that they would have other weapons, but then he realized that the man's lips were moving. Chills ran across the back of his neck, and he threw himself to the side. A rumble split the air, the cement where he had just been standing ripping open and heaving violently. Rolling, Sakaki saw the female agent start towards him and stopped himself. She moved fast, with an animal's grace, flowing like water to him and wrenching his arm behind his back before he could rise. He could feel her nails on his bare arm and her breath on his neck as she leaned down.

"And here I thought you were trained like me. The STN-J must have made you soft," she said into his ear.

"Hardly," he muttered against the cement and curled his back, rising enough to get his other arm underneath him and free himself from her grip. Stumbling away from the agent, he glanced around, but Kino was nowhere to be seen. Where had she gotten to? Getting help? He hadn't thought that the woman would abandon him, but perhaps he could have been wrong? There was no time to ponder it though as he heard the SOLOMON man mutter another spell.

This time, he wasn't quite quick enough, and while he managed to avoid the worst of the earth blast, the spell took his legs out from underneath him and his back hit the street. He cursed to himself and began to rock forward, but the woman was already on top of him, this time with a knife in her hand. She swung at his neck. He caught her arm and pushed back. She snarled a name, and Sakaki saw the man advance on them. He didn't have another hand, and suddenly, he realized that he was sorely out done. As soon as the man reached them, he would probably do something to make Sakaki let go of the woman's arm and it would all be over.

He couldn't help but think that it was unfair.

As the second SOLOMON agent reached them, though, there was a crash and something landed behind him. Then a single shot cracked, and the man fell back. Twisting his neck, Sakaki saw Kino, a gun in either hand. She was shaking, but standing proud. Without flinching, she squeezed the trigger twice more, and the man collapsed to the ground. Sakaki tightened his grip again on his attacker's arm, and used her distraction at her partner to swing his legs beneath her and kick, flipping her over his head.

She landed on her feet, steadying herself with her hands. "This isn't over," she growled, and turned, straight into Kino's outstretched gun.

"Yes," Kino said, almost sadly, "it is." And she pulled the trigger once more. The shot echoed, Sakaki moving just quick enough to watch the SOLOMON woman fall to the ground beside him, he face frozen in surprise. Kino swallowed, whispering, "I'm sorry," and then turned away.

Sakaki smelled blood, but he wasn't sure whether it was his or theirs.

"I went to get the guns," Kino said as he pulled himself off the ground, her voice dead, "I figured you could hold your own for long enough."

Glancing at the two now-dead agents as he stood, Sakaki grimaced. "Barely. Thanks."

"Don't thank me," Kino said softly, face pale. "I don't want it."

Knowing that there was nothing he could say to make killing easier, Sakaki nodded and stuck his hands in his pockets, leaning against a wall.

There was a slight pause as Kino stared at the bodies of the two agents, breathing raggedly. Sakaki wasn't sure whether she was going to break down or shoot the bodies again; her face reflected anger and sorrow at the same time. A tear ran down her face, and he turned his head to try to give her privacy. But a moment later, he felt her hand on his arm, dragging him away.

"Come on," she said, leading them away from the alley, "we've got to get to the airport, and we've only got three hours."

"What about Mira and Miho?"

Kino grimaced, "We made a plan for if we got split like this; they'll meet us at the airport."

Sakaki refused to listen to the voice that whispered '_if they make it' _in his mind.

* * *

Karasuma didn't see which way Sakaki and Kino went. She wasn't sure she wanted to know, either. If she and Mira were caught, they would be questioned about the whereabouts of their partners. Well, Mira would. Karasuma knew for a fact that she wouldn't live long enough to be questioned.

She glanced back. The agent that was tailing them was at the same distance as she had been at last look. Karasuma wasn't sure, but it seemed like the woman following them was doing just that: following. As if she were biding her time for her next move. Karasuma frowned to herself. Was there a fourth agent trailing them, waiting in ambush? She couldn't feel anyone off-hand, but then, she was moving fast and what sense she had for other witch's power was probably skewed.

Mira turned down another street, her small frame obviously suffering from the exertion. Still, Karasuma knew that they had to keep running; the odds were not good for a confrontation.

She looked back again, and nearly tripped. The agent had disappeared. Confused, she began to slow down, when Mira suddenly shrieked.

With a gasp, she looked forward. The SOLOMON agent had somehow appeared in front of them, smirking and drawing her gun. Mira shouted again and threw herself at the woman before she could get the weapon fully out. They tussled, but it was obvious from the start that the SOLOMON woman had the upper hand. Without a second thought, Karasuma ran to help.

Mira's hands were wrapped around the agent's wrists, trying to prevent movement and beginning to fail. With a grimace, Karasuma drove her foot between the agent's shoulder blades, causing both of the women to pitch forward. Somehow they kept their feet, but Mira had gotten the distraction she needed. Her hands on the gun, she yanked as hard as she could, falling back on to the cement with the weapon cradled in her arms.

"Mira!" Karasuma yelled, but could not speak any further. The agent, disarmed, turned and tackled Karasuma. As they hit the street, Karasuma realized that this prevented Mira from using the gun – if they were fighting close, Mira ran the risk of hitting a comrade with any bullet she fired.

It was up to her then.

The last time she had really done any hand to hand combat was with Kenshio. The SOLOMON agent she fought now was better than the accomplice by a far cry. Any punch that she threw the woman dodged, seemingly effortlessly. And while she managed to avoid any debilitating injury, the agent continually landed small hits on her arms and back. Karasuma couldn't see how the woman was doing it. She wasn't _that _slow, surely?

She lashed out again with her fist, only to follow through empty air. The agent appeared beside her arm, grinning. With a laugh, the woman used the momentum gained from Karasuma's failed punch and sent her to the ground. She rose quickly, narrowing her eyes. There was something wrong with this, she had been _sure_ that her punch was straight. The agent was unnaturally fast, like she simply phased through the air rather than moving in it.

Her eyes widened. That was it. The agent had a craft that allowed her to phase from one place to another without physically moving herself.

But what to do about it? The knowledge of the agent's craft wouldn't aide in her defeat. Karasuma looked up to see the agent moving towards her, still smirking. She felt the subconscious shift of power in the air as the SOLOMON agent started her attack. Suddenly, Karasuma knew with absolute certainty what to do. If she could bring crafts under control by feeling the magic and calming it – she could also push it _out_ of control.

She stood up straight, forcing herself out of a defensive position. Either not noticing Karasuma's change in demeanor, or not caring, the SOLOMON agent came at her, and Karasuma made no move to defend herself.

They both hit the ground hard. One hand gripping the agent's coat, Karasuma shoved her other to the woman's face, making contact and struggling to keep it. She closed her eyes. Fell into the familiar place where magic and crafts were ripples and storms in an ocean of power. She felt the agent's power, calm and controlled as a reflecting pool.

And _pushed_.

A scream echoed in the alley and Karasuma felt herself fall forward. She opened her eyes to find herself elbow deep in the agent's shoulder. The woman was half-phased in places, screaming in pain. With a start, Karasuma shoved herself off, wanting to retch. A safe distance away, she watched in horror as the agent writhed on the ground, parts of her fading in and out of focus. It was as if she could not keep her cells to stay together, and Karasuma felt a pang of guilt, knowing that she had been the one to do this.

A touch on her shoulder revealed Mira beside her, holding out the gun that she had taken from the agent. Karasuma took it, grimacing, put the safety on and gave it back.

"I can't carry it," she said shortly, "don't have anywhere to put it."

Mira nodded and stuck the gun in the waist band of her pants, covering the butt with her shirt. Even hidden, the gun did not suit her. "Kino said that if we got separated, we should meet again at the airport," she said, wincing as the agent groaned.

Karasuma glanced at the woman still curled on the ground, and then looked back at Mira and nodded. "All right. Let's go."

* * *

"How will they get there if we took the car?"

Kino glanced at the man beside her, then back to the road. "We both had money. She'll hail a cab or take the bus. Your flight takes off from here, stops over in Fukuoka and then goes to Beijing."

Sakaki had to force himself not to ask whether that would be dangerous. Wouldn't they check cabs? What if they were caught in Fukuoka? What if Karasuma had survived, but lost Mira? How would she know to go to the Hiroshima airport, when their original plan was the Fukuoka airport? Yet again, he refused to contemplate the possibility that she hadn't escaped at all.

He frowned and concentrated on the road rushing past his window.

* * *

"The transit system here is pretty good, you have enough for a ticket, right?"

Karasuma nodded, ironically remembering the thousands on yen tucked in the flat purse on her waist. "It's a little hard to get to," she said, laying one hand on her hip.

Mira caught her meaning and nodded. "I see. Well." A bus pulled up and stopped. Sighing, Mira waved Karasuma to follow her on, paying for both of their tickets from her pocket. As they sat down, she craned her neck to see something outside. "One o'clock. Your flight leaves at four ten."

"How long does it take to get to the airport?" Karasuma asked.

"About two hours from this side of town." Mira sat back. "It'll be close, but that's probably a good thing." They were quiet for a little while, and then Mira turned to her. "Does Kenshio know about you two?"

Karasuma blinked.

The younger girl ducked her head, "I know it's a bit blunt of me, but she didn't mention anything about you being … a couple, and it would have helped me find you."

"Oh." Karasuma paused, trying to organize her thoughts enough to give an answer. "I think she suspected," she finally said, "but we were very careful about being discreet." She stopped, frowning out the window. When said like that, it sounded like something out of a bad soap opera.

Mira did not reply for a moment. "Do you think…she's dead?" she finally asked quietly.

Glancing at Mira, Karasuma tried not to show her surprise. Mira had seemed so collected while with Kino, gently reminding the older woman of things they had been told, coolly telling them that she had distracted the priest. What had happened to that woman? "Who?" she asked, and winced. The question had been thoughtless – she knew that Mira was referring to the agent, but it the question could have been for Kino.

Mira looked at her hands, and smiled sadly. "I don't know. I guess it could go either way, couldn't it?"

The ex-hunter nodded.

"Yes," Mira said as she looked up, eyes glistening, "it could."

Karasuma wasn't sure whether the girl meant which "she" they were talking about; or whether their respective partners were alive.

* * *

"The room in Beijing is under the name on your passport," Kino said. She paused as a plane flew over head, drowning out all noise for a moment. "Your flight leaves in an hour. You have to go straight from checkout to the gate and get on as soon as possible. No one will try anything on a plane these days – not even servants of the good king."

Sakaki sat up a little straighter. Maybe, if he timed it right, he could see her, talk to her for a moment, to make sure she was still there.

Kino seemed to read his thoughts. "Don't look for her. Don't talk to her if you do see her. Your seats are separate – don't change them unless you are by chance seated together."

He sighed, knowing that Kino was right. SOLOMON now expected them together. Just laying eyes on her would be enough, he decided, just so that he could see that she had escaped SOLOMON. "What about Kenshio? Will she contact us?"

Kino nodded. "She'll call sometime tomorrow. I don't know her plans, but I bet she's going to bring you two over to see her."

"Where is she?" Sakaki asked, mystified.

"Don't know," the woman said, shrugging. "She's always kept us as much in the dark as possible – for our own protection as well as theirs."

So Kino and Mira had been doing this for awhile? He was realizing how little he knew of the coven's reach, and it amazed him. "Did she awaken you?"

Kino chuckled. "No. Mira and I awoke each other by accident a year and a half ago." She smiled fondly, and something in her demeanor staunchly prevented Sakaki from asking how they had managed that.

"And you learned control on your own?" He asked, curiosity still not sated.

"Well, didn't you leave your people to learn mostly on their own?" Kino asked, her question without venom. "It really isn't all that uncommon, and we did have some help from other people who had done the same thing." She smirked, "They say we can't fit in to society; but no one's considered we might have made our _own._"

Sakaki smiled sardonically, and began to stare out the window again. They had reached the airport parking lot, and people were everywhere, going to and from the terminal, carrying luggage, balloons and flowers, some even with leashed dogs. Blending in here wouldn't be hard, he thought to himself, not for the short amount of time it would take to get to the plane. Kino pulled up to the ten minute parking and put the parking brake on. With a sigh, she gazed at Sakaki for a moment, and he could tell that the last few hours had been more taxing on her than even she probably realized.

"In the trunk are two bags – take the blue one, the other is her's. The ticket is under the name on the passport in the front-most pocket – the flight info is stuck in the passport. Kenshio put you in first class, so you can check in quickly." She looked down, face haggard, "Good luck."

He was silent for a moment, and then nodded, opening the door and grabbing the blue backpack from the back of the car. He began to walk in, but at the last moment turned back to the car and leaned into the window. "Thank you," he said, "and good luck to you too."

She gave him a small smile, and he turned back to the bustle of the terminal. When he glanced back again, Kino's car was gone.

* * *

He hadn't been on a plane in a long time, but it was a procedure that he suspected one never forgot. As he walked up to the first class ticket counter, he brought out his passport and flight information, handing it to the woman behind the counter with what he hoped was a bright smile.

It must have only been lukewarm, because she gave him a long gaze before snapping her head to the computer screen and typing his information in. Sakaki realized how strange it must have looked, a bedraggled teen in ripped and dirty clothes getting a first class ticket? He smirked to himself, almost chuckling.

"Are you checking in any baggage today?" the woman asked. He shook his head. "And your carry on has always been in your sight or hand?" he nodded. She ripped his ticket from the printer and handed it to him. "Security to your right, gate is number 27. Have a nice flight Mr. Mashida."

Collecting his things, Sakaki nodded, shuffling to the security station and dutifully putting his bag on the belt. He hoped that Kino hadn't put anything questionable in there, but realized that the woman was smarter than that as the bag, and he, went through security without a hitch. _The guards probably know more about the contents of my bag then I do, _he thought cynically as he walked to his gate. He checked a clock, and then his ticket. Twenty minutes to take off. A speaker announced first class boarding at gate 27.

Kino had said to board as soon as he could, but he couldn't help but glance around, searching for some sign of Karasuma. None. His chest tightened painfully, worry making his fists clench. She wasn't here yet. _She wasn't here. _ What had happened? Had she and Mira had gotten sidetracked, separated? He completely refused to believe her dead. Taking a last desperate look around, he boarded the plane numbly, not hearing the steward's "have a good flight". She was coming. She had twenty – no, fifteen now – minutes.

He sat in his seat, suddenly feeling the effects of his brush with SOLOMON. He was sure his back was one large bruise. He glanced at his hands, cut up and grimy from the street. If he had been lucky enough to escape greater injury, did that mean she may have been lucky as well? Or did it mean that he had paid for his luck with her life?

His hands clenched at the thought. Something moved at the front of the cabin, and he snapped his head up. People filing in. He watched; hopes falling inch by inch as none of the people coming in were her and the line of people trickled, then stopped. He leaned over to the man next to him, surreptitiously stealing a glance at the watch on his wrist. Ten minutes. The cabin door would be closed in less than five. There were still a few empty seats in economy, he told himself, but knew that most of them were open for the people boarding in Fukuoka.

He looked down, trying to steady his breath. If…she didn't end up boarding the plane, he would have no choice but to go on to Beijing without her, and hope that Kenshio would have news – good, or bad. No matter what, he wasn't going to give up on her until he knew for sure. He'd thought her dead once – when they had awakened the earth witch – and that had proved untrue. No. Not until he heard for sure. SOLOMON being as it was, though, that might be forever.

He didn't think he minded.

There was a clatter in front of him, and a hand landed hard on his shoulder, making him wince. But he knew, even before looking up. It was her. His eyes sought out hers automatically, and his breath caught. She was here. She was _on the plane_. And she was alive. He had to fight the urge to grab her shoulders and kiss her for all she was worth. But it was so wonderful simply to see her that he could barely even manage to breathe.

She seemed to be having the same reaction, because it was a long moment before she blinked and said, "Excuse me."

Suddenly remembering that they weren't supposed to know each other, he shook himself and nodded. "It's no problem… Miss."

She swallowed and nodded, straightening. "Thank you," she said softly, and then proceeded down the aisle.

Sakaki sat back, closing his eyes as a voice over the intercom announced the closure of the cabin door.

* * *

The flight wasn't as bad as it could have been, all things considered, Karasuma thought as they touched down in Beijing. She would have thought that it would be torture, being away from Sakaki when she could be so close. But seeing him was such a relief that she didn't feel the distance as much as she could have, and she had dozed off soon after they had left Fukuoka. She had known that he was alive from the moment she and Mira had stepped off the bus, when Kino had appeared and given her the bag that was now stowed in the storage bin above her head. But it had been a close call in getting on the plane, and though she knew he was alive the whole time, she still hadn't seen proof. She smiled to herself, drawing random patterns with her finger against the armrest. She had seen the proof now.

Still, they had to get to the hotel. She wasn't too worried about that, it was just a matter of making sure that they were within sight of each other. Kino had told her that SOLOMON wouldn't catch up with them for at least a day, and by then, Kenshio probably would have contacted them. She frowned. With two agents dead, and one incapacitated, it might take them longer than that, but she doubted it.

She pushed thoughts of death and escape from it out of her mind as the plane taxied to the gate and the cabin doors opened. People stood up, wrestling for a space to stand up and reclaim their bags, but Karasuma stayed seated. Why bother hurrying? She wouldn't be able to touch him until they were safe in the hotel room. Well, in the room, safe seemed to be a very relative word these days.

The line dwindled, and she got up, shouldering her bag and walking from the plane. It was about eight o'clock, and she could see the sun setting through the large windows that overlooked the runways. As she glanced around, her eyes settled on Sakaki, standing by the water fountains at the restroom. He glanced over his shoulder at her and smiled, then turned back and began to walk. With a smile of her own, she followed, dropping back enough so that it wasn't obvious.

Thankfully, there was a shuttle to the hotel – they didn't have to worry about different taxis. During the forty-five minute ride, she had to work not to stare at him. As they got off, she fell back, pretending to be distracted by something in the street. He did not stop, quickly walking to the check-in desk. She waited, not sure how they both knew what the other was doing, but glad that they did. Mira and Kino's instructions had matched perfectly- even though they had been apart when they gave them. She smiled, remembering Mira's eyes when Kino had appeared. Well, it wasn't really that surprising, given their relationship, she decided. Sakaki moved away from the desk, and Karasuma turned into the doors, walking into the well-furnished lobby. She did not even bother with the desk, stealing a look at Sakaki, who flashed the number 415 with his fingers.

She nodded, and turned to the stairs as he stepped into the elevator. Soon, she was knocking softly on the door, and catching her breath as he opened it and let her in to the darkened room.

There was a pause as he shut the door and then turned to look at her. For a moment, they just stared. It was Sakaki who spoke first. "You had me worried."

She looked down. "Sorry. Buses take awhile."

"I'm just glad you're here," he said.

"Me too," she replied, smiling up at him. He smiled back for a moment, and then suddenly moved forward, arms encircling her waist and pulling her flush against him. She linked her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder, glad for the contact. They stayed, frozen for a moment, hanging on for dear life. Sakaki wasn't sure, but he thought one of them was shaking. Maybe him. Minutes later, Karasuma loosened her arms, leaning back to look Sakaki in the face.

"You aren't hurt, are you?" he asked.

She shook her head. "You?"

"A little achy, but I slept on the plane," he smirked, "it was uncomfortable as hell, but it helped."  
She chuckled, "Yes, me too."

There was a lull. Gently, Karasuma disengaged herself from his arms, taking her backpack and setting it on the table as Sakaki sat on the bed. She thought of turning a lamp on, but discarded the idea. She didn't feel like bright light after the day she had had. When she turned back to him, he was staring at his hands, and she could tell something bothered him. "What's wrong?" she asked, walking to stand in front of him.

He shook his head. "It just bothers me that less than half a year ago, those people hunting us might as well have _been_ us."

Karasuma nodded. "I know. We've been hunting our own shadows for all these years."

"Did you kill her?" he asked after a moment of contemplation.

Karasuma sighed. "I don't know."

Sakaki nodded, and slid his hands up to grasp hers, holding them loosely in between them. "I got their guns away and distracted them until Kino could get the guns for herself. She killed them both."

"I don't know what I did," Karasuma admitted, weaving her fingers in with his, "It was like what we did with Kenshio, except…the opposite."

"You took away their control?" Sakaki asked, eyes widening.

"Something like that," she said quietly, closing her eyes. "It felt awful. Worse than using a gun," she looked down, "but it was effective, and we got away."

He sensed that thanking her for escaping, even if it used such a tactic; would be met with a reaction similar to Kino's. Instead of speaking, he reached up a hand to cradle her face, feeling her sigh into his fingers. Slowly, she opened her eyes and leaned down, kissing him softly. He closed his eyes, and her lips remained, responding and moving with his. Sliding his hands down to support her waist, he deepened the kiss, feeling her hands move to slide through his hair.

Suddenly, he turned the tables, neatly pushing her off balance and letting her fall onto the bed beside him. She gasped in surprise against his lips, but tightened her arms around his neck as he leaned over her and caught her lips again, loathe to break the contact. When he finally did, she opened her eyes slowly at first, and then they flew open in surprise as she gasped again, and he suddenly realized their precarious position. They had only kissed twice while in a hotel room. Once just before going to sleep, and once just before they left said room. This was different. Neither of them was ready for bed any time soon, and they certainly weren't planning on leaving. Their position on the bed was far from innocent. But he didn't move.

One hand frozen on her waist, he tried to clear his throat, and failed. She swallowed, and then leaned up and, almost timidly, pressed her lips to his again.

"Are you-," he started to ask, forgetting his previous policy of not looking a gift horse in the mouth.

"Haruto," she said, bringing one hand back from around his neck to place a finger on his lips, "don't be ridiculous."

She smiled, and, after a moment, he returned the smile. Closing his eyes, he found her lips again.

* * *

**Um. Yeah. The full version of this chapter is at under the same penname and title (the whole story is there as well.)**

**Thank you to Elven nighthawk (if that's her ff.n name) for the quick beta and for being amusing with her reply. .**

**um. yeah. **

**shifty eyes ** **runs off to cower in a corner**


	15. Some Things Never Change

**W00t! I finally finished this chapter!**

**Work and Calculus are kicking my butt, but don't worry, this has been chugging along. **

**Um. Yes, well, here ya go.

* * *

**

Certainly, the phone was a most evil invention of man, Sakaki thought as a harsh trill forced him into consciousness. His eyes remained closed, though, hoping that the offending technology would simply vanish. It didn't disappear, but it did stop ringing when Karasuma slid her hand from the covers and plucked the phone from its cradle.

"K-Hello?" She coughed, trying to hide the fact that she had nearly said her name instead of 'hello'- a habit leftover from working at the STN-J.

There was a pause, and then a barely audible sigh. "You made it then."

Karasuma gasped, instantly more awake at the sound of a familiar voice, "Ke-,"

"Hush." Kenshio cut her exclamation off in her usual crisp manner. "My line is secure, but yours may not be."

"Yes," Karasuma said, half sitting up, "it's good to hear from you directly though."

"You are both well, then?"

Karasuma twisted to glance at Sakaki, who had sat up soon after her, obviously able to hear the conversation. "Yes."

"Good. I can't speak long; do you have something to write with?"

Leaning over, Karasuma scrabbled around for a moment, finding a piece of paper and a hotel pen in the drawer. "Ready."

Karasuma could almost see the older woman nod as she began to speak. "The tickets are in the names on the passports that you received yesterday. Your flight will begin tonight at four-thirty. You will need to be at the airport at two to get everything in order." Karasuma glanced at the clock by the bed as she scribbled notes: nine am. "Beijing has self check-in booths, swipe your passport through and it will give you your destination and tickets." Kenshio paused for a breath, and then continued, speaking somewhat quicker. "His flight is at nine o'clock this evening, with a short layover. He may follow the same instructions. Do not go out of your room until you are en-route to the airport. Do you have everything?"

"Yes."

"Fine. I have to go now, but good luck to both of you."

"Will you meet us at the airport?" Karasuma asked, wondering whether she would have to find a hotel for herself.

"I will pick you up tomorrow. Someone else will be getting him." Kenshio paused again, and there was a fast conversation away from the receiver. Kenshio's voice returned to the line a moment later, saying, "I will see you shortly, then."

And the spy hung up.

With a short exhalation, Karasuma hung up the phone as well, carefully setting it down and staring at it for a moment. "It feels like months since we saw her last," she murmured after a moment.

"It does," Sakaki agreed, "even if it's only been four days."

Karasuma turned around, facing him without any distractions. Strangely, she didn't feel in the least uncomfortable; though they were both completely naked. It made sense, she knew; the only time there had been real discomfort between them was when they were hiding from each other. All thoughts of conversation disappeared as they studied each other, looking for regrets.

Neither found one.

"Different flights." He said flatly after a moment.

She nodded. "It won't be as dangerous. SOLOMON won't have been able to track us down yet."

Sakaki smiled, "You're right. It still doesn't seem fair, though."

"My plane doesn't leave until four thirty," Karasuma said quietly, "so we've got a while."

"Set the alarm," Sakaki advised, "then we won't have to worry about the time."

She smiled at him, and then set the alarm for one o'clock. "Four hours," she said, settling back. His arms snaked around her waist, and she felt his lips by her ear.

"It'll have to do," he whispered.

* * *

She had known that four hours would never be enough. They both had, but as Sakaki had said, it had had to do. Karasuma sighed for probably the twentieth time in the last half-hour, yet again looking at her ticket. France. Something about it struck her as odd. Maybe it was the image of Kenshio in the stereotypical aristocratic and high class French society. Trying to imagine the hunter sipping red wine from a Waterford crystal glass worked about as well as imagining her dressed in a duck suit.

Karasuma shook her head, trying to clear it of strange thoughts. She glanced at a clock – half an hour to take off. _Guess I should get to the gate, _she thought.

The flight to Charles de Gaulle airport was long. She had three layovers, making the way difficult. As the captain of yet another plane advised them on international procedures, she automatically checked her ticket. There was no connecting flight. Her eyebrow quirked up, wondering what she was supposed to do now. It had almost felt like she would be gate hopping forever. The plane was emptying, and, with nothing better to do, Karasuma got up and followed the crowd, going though customs quickly since she had no real baggage. There was a moment of panic when the man at immigration checked her passport more closely than she would have liked, but he then smiled at her and handed it back, wishing her a good night in passable Japanese. She nodded to him and went on, passing through gates until she came to the part of the airport that was open to the public.

It was nearly abandoned at this time of night, and at first, Karasuma thought that there was no one there. But as she looked around again, she found a familiar figure amidst the cluster of business men and women in one corner, holding a sign that said "Takeda International".

It was Kenshio.

Knowing that she was to play along with the charade, Karasuma strode up to the woman and held out her hand, remembering that if she was a business woman in Europe, she would shake hands.

"Miss Yatakushi," Kenshio said in well-accented French, as she took Karasuma's hand, shaking it quickly and then dropping it like a hot coal. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you."

Karasuma fumbled for a moment. She had learned French while in training, but it had been a long time since she had used it. "And you, Miss…"

"Delacourb. I'm sorry that our representatives did not tell you who would be picking you up."

"No, no, it is no problem," Karasuma murmured as they began to walk towards the parking lot.

"Very well," Kenshio said, "I'm sure you're tired, so we'll get to your hotel and allow you to freshen up before we begin."

Karasuma nodded uncertainly, still unsure of her grasp on the language. "O-of course."

There was a bit of small talk as they made their way to Kenshio's car, Kenshio asking simple questions as Karasuma tried to keep up. She thought that Kenshio would stop as soon as they got in the car, but the older woman continued to talk as they pulled out of the parking garage and onto the highway. Knowing better than to interrupt to ask if they could speak freely, Karasuma listened as attentively as she could, nodding and occasionally making a noise of agreement.

Finally, after five minutes on the road, Kenshio sighed.

"Did you have any trouble in Beijing?" she asked, this time in Japanese.

Karasuma bit back a sigh of relief. "No, I got to the airport fine." She looked out the window, biting her lip, "I don't know about Haruto."

Kenshio nodded. "If you made it without trouble, it is likely that he will as well."

They lapsed in to silence. Suddenly, a hundred questions bubbled to Karasuma's mind, and she weighed her chances of getting an answer to any of them. Finally, she spoke. "How did you find us in Hiroshima? Did you already know about Mira and Kino? Are they all right?"

Kenshio cast Karasuma a cool look. "Finding you wasn't terribly hard, though I had to know where to look. I found a source, and it told me where you were. As for Mira and Kino, they are fine."

Karasuma sat back, unsurprised that Kenshio had not answered her questions. She was glad to hear that the girls that had risked their lives for her and Haruto were well, but had gotten nothing else. As she brewed over the answers, Kenshio changed lanes. "It is a three hour drive from Paris," the older woman said, "There is a pillow behind your seat. It would probably be good to get some sleep."

Sighing, Karasuma reached back to grab the pillow. Sleep sounded good, but answers sounded better. Still, when one wasn't going to be given, she might as well take the other. Quieting her frustration, she cranked her seat back and closed her eyes. Sleep followed only moments later.

* * *

Karasuma woke to the change in noise as Kenshio turned off the car. She sat up, rubbing her eyes in the darkness. They seemed to be in a parking garage, lit only by a few sparse mercury lamps. Swinging her legs out from the car, Karasuma winced. A long plane ride compiled with a two hour long car ride had made her stiff – especially after the morning's activities.

She was glad the lot was dark – though she also knew that Kenshio would not have commented on her sudden blush even if she had seen it. Instead of dwelling on her morning, she focused on looking around her. Kenshio was punching a number into a pad on the wall, and a door buzzed. The woman pushed the door open and Karasuma dutifully followed, noting the sparse but decent decoration. The floor was hard cement, the walls white-washed, but every few meters there was some hint of human life. A painting, a sculpture, and as they turned a corner, even an inset on the wall. Karasuma blinked when she realized that it had been burned into the plaster.

"Whe-,"

"We are in a refurbished factory." Kenshio interrupted, as if reading her mind, "It was chosen as our headquarters for the remote location." She stuck a key into a switch and pressed an elevator button. Doors slid open with a soft bell.

"Headquarters?" Karasuma said faintly, mind still groggy from her nap, "I thought you said that you were working on your own."

Kenshio smirked. "I did," she said dryly, "I lied."

_Not surprising, _Karasuma thought, equally dryly. She did not voice the thought, though, because they had stepped from the elevator and into a carpeted hall, this one densely decorated. Chalk drawings on the walls warred with paints and what looked like small hand prints. They stopped beside a door, and Kenshio unlocked it as Karasuma bent down to get a closer look.

"The children get bored when forced to stay inside. Last time it happened, we allowed them to play with the walls."

"I…see." Karasuma said softly, more surprised that there were children here than that they were allowed to decorate. Wasn't this a rebel headquarters?

"You will wait here until Sakaki arrives," Kenshio said as she led the way in, flicking the lights on to reveal a room with two couches facing each other. Coffee tables stood on either end, and a large table was pushed against the wall.

"Are you getting him?" Karasuma asked, brushing a cushion with her fingertips.

"No, someone else wi-," Kenshio paused as a shrill ring bit the air. Then she took out a small phone and answered. Karasuma did not listen, refusing to hear – lest it be bad news. Kenshio turned the phone off.

"Sakaki's ride has confirmed that the flight took off on time and with all passengers."

Karasuma blinked. Somehow, she had expected to hear that the flight had been delayed, or a passenger detained, or missing… but she hadn't. She smiled in relief. "Must be a hacker or something, if they know that all passengers checked in."

"Michael was – is - better," Kenshio said, and then turned, "I need to get some things ready. He will be here in about two hours, and then we will talk."

And she walked from the room, closing the door and cutting off any question Karasuma may have gotten out. Somewhat dejected, Karasuma sat on the couch, and then lay down. Head on one hand, she stared at the other couch, mind buzzing with questions that she would never be able to answer on her own. Somewhere between wondering about Kenshio's 'organization' and worrying about her own future, her eyes closed.

* * *

She woke to a familiar hand on her face, and an equally familiar voice.

"Miho, wake up."

Opening her eyes, she found Sakaki, head tilted on the same plane as her own, kneeling beside her on the floor. She blinked, forgetting to breathe for a moment. Then she smiled and shifted. "Haruto, you made it."

He smiled in return. "It was pretty boring," he paused, "well, except for the part where Kenshio showed up; that was interesting."

Karasuma smirked, pushing herself to sit up and looking around. They were alone, which surprised her somewhat. "Where is Kenshio? She said something about talking once you got here."

Sakaki shrugged, standing up beside the couch and looking at the door. "Dunno. She said she had to get someone and she'd be back."

Karasuma nodded, and then stood up, touching her lips to his with ease. "Did she say who?"

Sakaki shook his head, hands hooking around her back to bring her closer, though she was already almost standing on his feet. Smiling, she leaned against him, closing her eyes and sighing.

The lock clicked, and the door began to open. Taking a step back, Sakaki allowed Karasuma to face the door, though she left one hand curled at his shoulder. Then the door swung open completely, and Robin Sena stepped into the room, followed closely by Amon.

Karasuma's hand tightened as she looked at them. Somehow, she felt as if she were seeing a ghost. But only Robin could look so sweetly embarrassed; and only Amon could narrow his eyes in just such a fashion. Thinking back, she couldn't say she was too surprised. Since Single-Eye had mentioned her betrayal to Zaizen and saved her from Kenshio's mistrust she had suspected that they were alive, especially after hearing Mira and Kino refer to the Eve. But suspicion and having them standing in front of her were a far cry from each other.

She cleared her throat softly. "The Eve. I – I had wondered if they meant you, Robin."

Robin ducked her head, a blush staining her cheeks. "I still think it's silly to be compared to the original mother," she said demurely, "but most insist otherwise."

Karasuma nodded, it sounded like the Robin she had known. Beside her, Sakaki shook himself. "You're…alive?"

Robin nodded. "We were lucky," she said, sharing a quick glance with Amon. He nodded, as if giving her permission for something. "A few weeks after we escaped Japan, a witch that we were staying with told us to come here. We've been…busy since then."

Kenshio cleared her throat. "We should sit down. This will not be a short explanation."

Robin nodded, stepping around the couch and sweeping her typical skirts out to sit down. Karasuma and Sakaki backed up to the other couch, sitting together as Amon carefully lowered himself beside Robin. Kenshio remained standing, hands linked behind her back in a soldier's parade rest.

Robin closed her eyes for a moment, taking a breath as if to give herself center. Karasuma glanced at Amon, who was watching his ward with grim concentration. As if sensing his gaze, Robin looked at him, and he nodded once, showing his support. The Eve turned her attention to the new arrivals. "There has always been a small faction of witches that have defied SOLOMON," she said, "People who trained and controlled themselves and others, kept them safe as they could." She swallowed, "But it was always a defensive organization. They could never gain enough ground to do anything but protect those that came to them; occasionally perhaps save a witch that someone came across. SOLOMON was always able to beat them down."

Robin paused, suddenly looking very unsure of herself. She glanced at Amon again, and Karasuma was interested to note the bracing effect he seemed to have on her. She continued. "When Toudo… made me, he told one of the leaders of the coven that their hope had come." She sighed. "My mother was meant to birth me and then join the coven with Toudo – but Toudo was killed and Maria died in childbirth. No one was able to get to me, and everyone thought that I had been killed by SOLOMON." There was a pause as Robin swallowed again, obviously nervous about giving such a detailed history to people who had once so firmly belonged to the STN-J.

"So they continued to defend themselves, even though they believed all hope lost. When the factory fell, and Amon and I went in to hiding, the witch that I mentioned earlier put the pieces together and immediately sent us here. Since then we have been-"

Amon suddenly shifted, taking out a small cell phone and opening it. Robin quieted, turning her attention to Amon. He gave no indication that he had picked up, but it appeared that the person on the other end must have been speaking, because he said, "Yes," and "we will be there shortly," then hung up. After replacing the phone in his pocket, he looked up to them.

"I am glad you made it," he said, his first words directly to the two of them. "I was given to understand it was difficult."

"Nagira helped us out of Tokyo," Sakaki mumbled.

"You saw Nagira?" Robin asked happily.

Karasuma saw her eyes light up; it was obvious she had been attached to the lawyer. "Yes," she said, smiling slightly.

"Is he well?" the young witch asked eagerly, "did you get time to speak with him?"

"Robin," Amon said, and she stopped.

"I am sorry," she said, bowing shallowly, "but I think I am needed." She looked at Kenshio. "Could you?" Kenshio nodded, bowing slightly. Robin smiled, and turned back to Sakaki and Karasuma, "I am happy that you are both here and safe," she said sincerely.

They nodded, still somewhat stunned. Turning, Robin walked from the room, her boots clicking on the thresh hold. Amon followed close behind her, and he shut the door, leaving Kenshio with them.

"Robin requested me to tell you the rest;" the older woman said, coming around the couch and sitting down, "you would like to hear it now, yes?"

Karasuma glanced at Sakaki, and as one, they nodded.

Kenshio sat up, looking just as professional while sitting on the couch as she had while standing. "What we do now is something akin to what we did in Japan, though much more difficult. Robin vowed to bring down SOLOMON as soon as she came here and truly took up her position as the Eve."

Karasuma shifted, uneasy at Kenshio's words. It sounded far too much like a rampaging empress; something she had feared when she heard of Robin's true power. Kenshio glanced at her shrewdly, seeming to hear her thoughts.

"But she refuses to do it through violence. She said that one of the surest ways to put a stop to SOLOMON was to teach it's hunters about their own power – and about other's power. And so we…capture hunters, and convert them."

"What?" Sakaki said bluntly, his face as disbelieving as Karasuma was sure her own was.

Kenshio smirked. "Yes. It seemed ridiculous, even cruel to me at first, but she will not kill them unless there is no other choice. Her own powers are different every day, it seems as the need suits her, and she is very good at speaking- even to those who hate her." She looked down, almost as if lost in some memory, "She is the keystone to this organization now."

"Robin?" Karasuma breathed in wonder. She could not imagine the slip of a girl she had known in Japan holding such an important position as easily as Kenshio seemed to think.

The older woman looked up, smiling slightly. "You never knew as the Eve. But she is greater in power than you could imagine, and greater in goodness than any of us could comprehend."

Looking down, Karasuma said softly, "I doubted her, just before the factory fell. I was afraid that she would be unable to control the power, and turn into something terrible."

Kenshio snorted. "She doubts herself, at times. She should not." The woman stood up, "You will not, once you see."

Sakaki leaned back, glaring mildly at Kenshio, "You might have mentioned them," he said flatly after a minute.

"You know why I didn't," Kenshio replied immediately, voice equally flat.

He ran a hand through his hair, sighing. He knew: it was the same reason that she had not told him that Karasuma was already in the coven when 'inviting' him. "Yes," he conceded, "It still seems unfair."

"I had an idea," Karasuma said quietly, "Single-Eye said something, once…" she shook herself, "But I never really thought that they were alive."

Kenshio looked up at the mention of her old partner and seemed to pause. Slowly, she stood up and opened her coat, drawing a piece of paper from the breast pocket of the lining. Stepping forward, she handed it to Sakaki. He unfolded it, a square piece of white paper, with one line scrawled across the middle. _Well, Kasu, I tried. _He wasn't sure how he knew, but he was positive that it was Single-Eye's handwriting. "If you haven't heard, he is dead," Kenshio said shortly, "They caught him on the same day."

"We had heard," Karasuma said, voice hoarse. There was a moment of silence, and she reached out, brushing the paper with her craft. She smelled olives, and felt Single-Eye's apathy towards his own life. But he had had such loyalty to Kenshio that he had almost regretted being caught. Escaping had failed, and he had finally taken refuge in the bedroom. The note had been written with the intention of walking proudly out the door and dying on his feet.

Karasuma shook off the scry with tears in her eyes. When she looked up, she realized that she could not tell Kenshio anything the older woman didn't already know. Silently, she drew back, letting Sakaki return the paper. Kenshio took it and refolded the square carefully, putting it back into her inside pocket. Without a word, she left.

* * *

Karasuma stirred her tea in a small dining area an hour later. Sakaki had gone to sleep soon after they had been shown their rooms; thankfully across the hall from each other. She doubted she would ever actually sleep in her room – but there was no need to mention that as of yet. Having taken many naps between getting off the plane and seeing Robin for the first time, she was more awake; so she had slipped from Sakaki's room as soon as he was asleep, curious about their new surroundings. It hadn't taken her long to find the kitchen, and thus the tea. Taking a sip of the hot liquid, she closed her eyes and gave thanks that someone had thought to put good ginger tea out, it felt wonderful.

When she opened her eyes, she discovered that Amon had sat down across the table from her. She hadn't heard him, which wasn't such a surprise, but she still wasn't completely over the shock of finding him alive, and stared for a moment before speaking. "Where is Robin?"

He blinked, "Taking a bath. It is one of her vices."

Karasuma nodded, faintly remembering Robin mentioning falling asleep in the bath one morning at work. "I see."

"Is Michael… well?" Amon asked after a long silence.

Karasuma nodded. "As can be expected. His collar was lifted after Zaizen's death." She sighed, "I don't know what will happen to him now that we're gone." Morosely, she stared at her tea, suddenly reminded of how they had left Michael in Raven's flat.

"Robin is worried about him."

Karasuma smiled. "They were close," she said.

Amon nodded, and she thought she saw the faintest trace of a frown on his face. Considering how often his emotions could be discerned by sight, she found herself surprised. Unless she was mistaken, Amon was…jealous?

There was a long pause, and Karasuma was suddenly reminded of the hours the two of them used to spend in Harry's together, simply sitting together at the bar and sipping their drinks, silence the best form of speech. She and Amon had never been close, per se, but they had always had a sibling-like camaraderie.

Suddenly, the Ex-Hunter shifted, and she looked up to see him staring at her. "He – treats you well?" Amon asked quietly.

For a moment, Karasuma could not figure out what he was talking about, and then it hit her. Sakaki. She smiled faintly, completely unsurprised. "I wouldn't be with him if he didn't."

"I mean… you are happy."

Without thinking, Karasuma nodded, staring into space. "You couldn't imagine." Then she blinked, and looked at him. "How did you know?"

Amon looked away, seeming embarrassed to admit how well he knew her, "I've never seen you touching another person unless you were scrying them. You always kept yourself away from other human beings."

She was reminded of her hand on Sakaki's shoulder as Robin and Amon had come into the room. Chuckling softly, she shook her head. "I was afraid of other people, I couldn't trust them."

"And you can trust him?" Amon asked.

"Yes," she replied firmly.

Amon didn't say anything for a minute, scrutinizing her carefully over the table. After a few moments, she glanced up from her tea to find him still watching her, his face somewhat troubled. "Amon," she said, smiling, "So much has changed already; surely this doesn't bother you?"

The man blinked at her, and then abruptly rose, silently leaving the room. Karasuma watched him go, sighing. _Though, _she thought wryly, _some things never do change, I guess.

* * *

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**I may come back and edit this: btw, chapter 14 will be being reposted as soon as I get the time (nothing big, mind you, it just had issues.) **

**But, we brought Kenshio back! And The handlebar Girl! And her deadweight sidekick! (as someone put it so perfectly)**

**Reviews are loverly, thank you!**


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